Incognito
by 3R15UK0UM31
Summary: Lithuania's boss asks him to go undercover for his own protection, and the nervous nation is happy to comply. But there's a catch: he will be disguised as a woman. As if this wasn't crazy enough, an unknowing Prussia begins to take a liking to the alter ego. Meanwhile, the world grows steadily more anxious about the Baltic's disappearance...things are going to get messy. PrusLiet
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Hmmm…Layer it a little more, I think, and then put in the highlights."

The scissors snipped quietly around my ears, and then the voice of the hairdresser answered my companion: "I was thinking, ma'am, that perhaps two-tone highlights would be better? Bring out the eyes, add a little color…"

Flat gray eyes looked me over studiously. "…Fine, two-tone. What exactly were you thinking?"

This was torture. I hadn't sat in a salon chair this long since…well, since Feliks had decided that my hair was "too bland" and had forcibly dragged me out to get it "fixed". I couldn't believe women did this. _Frequently_.

Right, I guess you have no clue what's going on…Well…

**~A few hours ago~**

I had just finished dressing and was starting on my first cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. Waiting outside were two members of the president's personal guard, who ushered me quickly into a car. They spoke reassuringly ("Madame President simply wishes to have a word with you, there is no danger"), but moved with a sense of urgency that spoke volumes about just what sort of news my boss wished to discuss. The tension set me on my toes, and I could feel my stomach starting to turn nervously.

The car ride was short and silent. I was led through a back entrance and straight to my boss' office. The darkly-paneled doors slammed shut behind my attendants, leaving me alone with my president and a few members of her guard. She didn't rise from her desk but motioned for me to sit, and I complied, waiting respectfully for her to begin our discussion.

"I apologize for waking you so early." Her face was relaxed, but when she smiled I could see that she was just as tense as me.

"I was already awake, it was no trouble."

"Have some coffee, please." A mug was already sitting on her desk, filled and steaming. She poured another and handed it to me. The warmth was reassuring and relaxed me a little, but as good as it smelled, my stomach was churning painfully and I couldn't stand to drink any of it.

I grew more and more anxious in the silence that followed, as she sipped her coffee and sifted through several forms lying on her desk. Finally, she broke the silence. "Now, Mr. Laurinaitis. I'm afraid our intelligence agents have detected a…threat to your personal safety. We do not wish you to be unduly concerned about this matter, but this threat is distinct, and there are some measures that we require you to follow until it has been resolved. Do you agree to follow all guidelines that we lay down for you in the coming weeks?"

I was gripping the coffee mug so tightly by now that I think it may've actually cracked. Pain was stabbing through my abdomen and I could feel a migraine coming on. _A threat to my personal safety…? Who would be trying to harm a country? They must be pretty powerful if they think they can get away with it…_ "O-of course! Whatever I need to do, I'll do it, no exceptions!"

"Good!" The answer didn't come from the president, but rather from a young woman who had just stepped into the conversation. She wore a no-nonsense expression as she brushed a few stubborn-looking strands of dirty-blonde hair from her face and rested a heavy freckled hand on my tense shoulder. "Because we're going to be best friends until this all blows over." Her voice was low and mature-sounding, and, despite her diminutive stature (she only stood about 20 centimeters taller than me when I was sitting), it carried the steady self-assurance of someone who's used to ordering others around. She was obviously from higher in the ranks of the guard, and yet I'd never met her before.

My boss cleared her throat and spoke again. "Mr. Laurinaitis, this is Rasa Stankevičiūtė. She's going to be your personal attendant, advisor, and bodyguard until this threat passes. She has orders to provide you with anything you need and take whatever measures necessary to safeguard you. Please remember that your safety is her first priority and everything she does is to protect you, therefore you are to follow her advice without question."

"I'd like you to know a few things up front." The guard in question removed her hand and made sure I was looking up into her hard gray eyes. "First: we're changing location. You'll be staying with me in a flat on the outskirts of Vilnius. Everything's already been arranged, and we're moving in this evening."

Well, that wasn't so bad. If all I had to do was live in a little suburban flat for a month or two, I was sure I could get through this. I'd survived much, _much_ worse before, after all.

"Second: we're going to need to change your appearance a good bit. We'll be getting you new clothes, a new hairstyle, and colored contacts to disguise your eye color." Alright, that was a little bit more burdensome, but not terrible by any stretch of the imagination. Once I got used to it I might even like it.

"Third: we'll be changing your name. From this day forth, your name will be…" She looked me over briefly, her ashen gaze taking in everything in a split second. "Viltė. There are a million Viltė's."

Wait…what? Sure it was a nice name, _Hope_, and traditional too. But… "Um…"

She answered sharply. "What is it?"

Her tone made me cringe, and I hesitated just a moment about asking the question. I knew I was supposed to be accepting her orders and advice, hands down, but this was just…odd. Surely she…made a mistake or something… "…I-isn't that a…girl's name…?"

"Bingo."

"Wait…you mean-"

A crooked smirk stretched across her features. "Exactly. As long as you're in hiding with me, you're going to be living as a woman."

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

I had been…a little shocked to say the least, but we had set out on our grand shopping adventure before I could even think to protest. But after thinking about it for a few minutes behind the tinted windows of the government car, I remembered my boss asking me to cooperate because in the end it was for my protection…And that's the reason that I was sitting so docilely in the salon chair, surrounded by the reek of hair chemicals, waiting for the highlights to set in my newly shorter-than-chin-length hair. This was…blasphemy. It had been the same length almost as long as I could remember, and I liked it that way. But I had to create my cover and keep it, as long as I needed to. I'd promised, after all, and I didn't want to be even more of a burden by getting myself hurt…

After an hour or so my throat was burning from the chemical dyes, and finally the salon worker reappeared to remove the foil and rinse my hair. The more soothing smell of shampoo surrounded me as she went to work with her hair dryer. Finally, the transformation completed, she wheeled me in front of a mirror.

A stranger with warm hazel eyes stared back at me. Her short, light auburn hair fell in feathery layers around her face. Awe filled her face as her pale hand rose to touch the soft strands. "Wow…" I had worn my hair shoulder length since…well, as long as I could remember. And that was a _long_ time. This was just…strange. Nice, but definitely very strange. My head felt too light.

"Viltė, come on, we don't have all day!" Having taken care of the bill, Rasa grabbed my exploring hand and pulled me out of the chair. "We still have a lot of shopping to do." She waved to the hairdresser before pulling me forcefully out of the salon and into a waiting car.

Shopping? A _lot_ of shopping? This was feeling more and more like one of Poland's days of torture…Oh well. I had to get it over with eventually, and while she was very…assertive…Rasa wasn't nearly the self-centered attention whore that Feliks tended to be. Besides, it couldn't be _that_ bad…

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

"Arms out, please." Rasa slipped the measuring tape around the middle of my ribcage before giving me a sharp, critical look. "And stop holding your breath like that. God, you're like a stubborn horse." I let out the breath completely. She took almost a minute to do her measurements, and even though no emotion showed in her gray eyes, after 30 seconds I was firmly convinced that she was enjoying watching my face turn blue.

"Alright, looking like a 75…C? Let's do C. Need you to look feminine, but we don't need to turn too many heads…" The last sentence was mumbled as if she realized I might need to hear it but was hesitant to voice her thoughts. She turned, whipping out a cell phone and dialing a number quickly, greeting whoever was on the other side in Dutch. The only sounds for the next few minutes were those of her murmuring and the cheery muzak filtering through the department store speakers.

I shifted my weight awkwardly, inspecting the chipped paint on the door to the dressing room. There was graffiti penciled on the door, over smudges that were probably earlier works of art. That didn't hold my interest for long, so instead I watched my protector as she spoke. She was shorter than me by a good four or five inches, but I felt certain she weighed the same or more. She wasn't fat at all, in fact she was probably in better shape than I was…it was more that she was sturdy-looking. She was big-boned, with wide shoulders and hips for her height. I felt certain that she must have a figure, but was dead set on keeping it hidden; the shirt she was wearing was at least 2 sizes too big. She turned abruptly and glared at me, and I just as quickly cast my eyes to the floor, feeling my cheeks burning slightly. Woops…I guess I stared a little too long…

_Sigh…_With each breath I could still feel the pressure of the measuring tape around my chest. I wasn't looking forward to this. At all. It was mortifying enough, as a _man_ standing in a _women's _dressing room in the section of the store reserved for _women's underwear, _listening to my bodyguard-slash-advisor-slash-master of disguise (what should I call her anyways?) trying to push through some shady deal in Amsterdam-

I jumped as she snapped her phone shut with obvious satisfaction. "Alright, I've got something better on the way, but for now, you're just going to have to stuff them."

_Stuff them?_ Wait…"Something better…?"

"You'll see. Now get that charming blush under control and look around with me." Like I could! It only got worse as she led me back into the forest of cotton and lace. "Christ," she muttered. "What are you, 14?"

_Dieve,_ what did I do to deserve this…?

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

That was it. If I _ever_ found out who exactly was threatening my safety, I was going to take their punishment into my own hands. Heads would roll.

And if he was male, he would most definitely be forced to go through something like this before his death. Maybe I'd send him out shopping with Feliks. That would be enough to shatter the sanity of any normal human.

"Do I really have to try on _all_ of these…?"

"All of them. And I want to see every single outfit."

First: a fitted t-shirt and loose, dark jeans. The whole concept of me…with _breasts…_was just wrong on some basic level. It was just tissue paper, I knew that, but looking in the fingerprint-smudged mirror and seeing my own face on someone else's body was…very disorienting.

Rasa applauded (sarcastically, I assume) as I shuffled out of the dressing room. "Hey, that looks pretty good Viltė. You almost look like you have a figure." She used the new name often, trying to get me used to it, I guess. "I knew it. Warm colors really bring out those new highlights."

"But…" I looked a little plaintively down at the shirt and was faintly surprised when my view was blocked; this would take a _lot_ of getting used to. "I've never even been to the Costa del Sol…"

"Doesn't matter. It's cute and flattering. You're buying it." Her voice rang with a stern sort of finality. I'd been protesting all day and had learned quickly that when she sounded like that, there really wasn't any point arguing. "Next outfit!"

6 pairs of jeans, 3 t-shirts, 4 blouses, and a dress later I was absolutely exhausted. Too exhausted even to worry about the impending threat to my safety or staying undercover. I really just wanted a nap…I had woken up way too early, and I'd been feeling too sick to drink any coffee. Just a few minutes…the sofas in the store were far from comfortable, but they'd do…just a power nap and then back to…whatever it was I was even doing here…

"Hey, no sleeping!" I cracked my eyes open and was met by a storm-gray gaze showering me with disapproval. She was fresh from the checkout line: bags hung from her hands and arms, filled with the day's spoils.

Might as well give it a try…I let my eyes slip shut again. "Just a few minutes…"

She grabbed my shoulder; her grip was almost painful. I was definitely awake now, and she was close. I could smell cigarettes and coffee on her breath. "Women don't sleep in a place like this." Her eyes glinted sharply. "You know what they do?"

I was a little afraid to hear the answer. "…What do they do?"

"They get an energy shot, and they keep going. On your feet, soldier!"

And we moved on.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

I instantly felt a little better once I was surrounded by casual café décor and the warm scent of coffee. Unfortunately, none of this had any effect on my companion. She sat on the stool across from me, tense and silent, her eyes skimming over every person who walked by. When our number was called she jumped down quickly from the stool and was already halfway to the counter by the time I thought to move. I could tell she was far from comfortable in the crowded café…maybe if I could draw her into a conversation she might loosen up some.

She presented me with my sandwich and dark roast and took her place back on the stool, protein shake in hand.

The coffee was wonderfully strong, and the caffeine made me feel a little less like a zombie. The sandwich was definitely subpar for 13 litų, but I had been running for 10 hours on a McDonald's chicken biscuit, and I desperately needed the calories. While I practically fell on my food, she sipped her shake daintily and watched the crowds walk by outside, remaining uncomfortably silent. Finally, after the infusion of carbs and caffeine, I decided I felt up to the challenge of breaking the ice…

"…Stankevičius, right?" She looked up questioningly and I continued. "Dovydas?"

She seemed to think carefully about whether or not to answer. "…Yeah, he was my uncle."

"We worked pretty closely together, back in the 80's." I smiled slightly. "He was a good man. Great sense of humor, although his timing could have been a little better…"

A question rose in her eyes, and I thought I knew what it was; however, she remained silent, tactfully choosing to search her memory for any mentions of me, and it seemed that she found one. With the connection established, she offered me a small, tight, crooked smile. "Yes, I seem to remember that he had a bad habit of telling jokes precisely when no one wanted to hear them."

Well, she answered me. It was progress. "The worst was when Glasnost and Perestroika were just beginning to be implemented…" I let my smile widen as I recalled the memory. "Everyone in the government was stressed out and exhausted, and Dovydas came in every day, somehow well-rested and in good spirits, telling these horrible jokes to everyone he came across. And when they snapped, he just laughed it off and told them to loosen up."

She grinned, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "That sounds just like him."

"Of course, when things got serious, he worked just as hard as anyone else, maybe harder…" I shook my head; it amazed me to this day. "I really don't understand how he did it."

"Bureaucracy runs in the family." She was quiet for a moment or two, sizing me up, before looking at me and smiling that crooked smile again. "You know what, Viltė? I think we're going to get along just fine."

Mission break the ice: successful.

"Now finish up. It's getting late, and we still need to run by your house and my apartment."

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

I was a little surprised to see that the flat was already furnished (quite nicely, it might be added), waiting for us with the lights on and the beds made. Rasa glanced over the place once, looking a little uneasy in the new setting, but she quickly pushed it down and walked through the doorway as if she'd lived there all her life.

The living room was painted in warm colors, and the dark hardwood floor reflected the light softly, comfortingly. A flat screen TV hung on the wall, quietly displaying the evening news. The plush sofa looked divinely comfortable to my tired eyes, and I was ready to collapse on it and fall asleep then and there. But because we had stopped briefly at my house, I had actually gathered a box or two of personal effects that were sitting in the car, waiting to be carried in and unpacked. I was sure Rasa had some things as well…and I'd really rather not leave them out there all night…

Rasa's freckled hand on my shoulder kept me from going back outside. "Don't worry about it. I had to run you ragged today, you deserve all the sleep you can get." She nodded towards the adjoining master bedroom. "Go ahead and go to bed. I'll take care of all this."

"_Labai ačiū_…"

"_Prašom_."

The bedroom was cooler, more neutral colors than the living room…light blue walls, off-white carpet. Moonlight shone through the silvery curtains. Pushing them aside, I could see Rasa standing on the front step, looking for that brief moment as tired as I felt; a cigarette hung between her fingers, glowing rosily. I let the curtains fall back. I felt like I was intruding. Besides, I was so tired…

I got ready for bed in an exhausted haze. Shirt: off. After a few seconds of fumbling with the clip, the bra (so strange…) joined it on the floor. Tissue paper fell everywhere…oh well. It could wait until tomorrow. The jeans were new and uncomfortable, so I took them off as well.

It had been a warm summer, good boxer weather. The sheets were cool and comfortable and smooth; the thread count must've been sinfully high. They smelled new, like whatever department store they'd come from, but it didn't bother me too much. I couldn't care less. I welcomed anything more comfortable than a wet stone floor.

My tired mind registered the sounds of Rasa moving around in the living room, unpacking box after box. It was a comforting sort of white noise, and I quickly slipped into oblivion.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

**_Dieve_ - God**

**_Labai ačiū_ _- _Thank you**

**_Prašom _- You're welcome/my pleasure**

**13 litų - About $5**

**My only help with Lithuanian pronunciation is that the weird s is "sh", the weird c is "ch" and the weird e is like the "eh" sound in "play". I'm sorry, that's really all I know! *shot***

**I really have no clue what sort of protection agency the Lithuanian government employs, but they must have something right? I mean, no country lets their politicians go around unguarded. I'm just...not sure what they call theirs. ^^" **

**Stankevičius and Stankevičiūtė are the same last name, just in male and (unmarried) female forms.**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it! Constructive criticism is always welcome, and every review makes me do the happy dance. :3**

**~Erisu Koumei**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay, this didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would! Big thank-you's for Love-Me-Insanity (my cultural advisor), Sunny-Blue-Sky, Chibifox (my wonderful beta), and Fanime-Sensei Strikes Back for their reviews! Also, thanks to TheRainbowStyle and ElizabethHoWey for favoriting! I'd love to see reviews from all of you, you know...;)**

**Anyways, here's chapter 2, enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

_Wind gusted down from the plains, carrying with it the sounds of metal on metal and the screams of wounded men and horses. The ranks of my cavalry were falling back into formation behind me, faces set and weapons at the ready. The pursuing Knights only realized the gravity of their mistake once they were trapped between walls of swords, pikes, and charging horseflesh. _

_Then came the overwhelming noise of the clash. Blood filled the air. It was everywhere, a scarlet mist in the air, a river seeping around the horses' hooves, a rain soaking my children fighting around me. Through the chaos, the flashing colors of standards and the sheen of swords dulled by gore, I saw my target, unmistakable with his pristinely white hair and cloak, seemingly pure and untainted by the death that surrounded him. Blood-red eyes met mine just a moment too late as his soldiers fell around me like wheat before a sickle. _

_My sword was at his throat, my eyes burning into his and his burning back. His forces fled around him. He let Poland's battered form fall to the ground as his snowy banner was trampled underfoot. The sounds of battle retreated gradually towards the Prussian camps. _

_I forced him to his knees in the muck. Red and brown seeped into his clothing. It was the clothing of a self-assured victor, pure white, made for one who thinks himself above the dirty business of actually fighting in a battle._

_His arrogance was disgusting. He needed to learn humility._

"_You have lost today, Beilschmidt." _

_Lost to a filthy, soulless, barbaric pagan in disguise. Lost to an inferior army. Lost to a _boy_ nearly 200 years younger and nowhere near as promising. And lost handily._

_The shame was too much. _

_Just before he melted into the darkened forest to rejoin his retreating forces, he looked straight at me so I could see how much he hated me with every breath in his body._

_He would have his revenge._

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

_Tannenberg. _My eyes shot open as I woke in a panic, tangled in the sheets. _Where was my armor, the battlefield, the funeral pyres? Had I been captured? Drugged? When...? _My breathing slowed as my dream-muddled brain dragged itself sluggishly into the present. _Of course_...but was I in my house? The air smelled wrong, felt wrong...

Oh right. New apartment. And the movement in the other room would be my bodyguard. Advisor. Master of disguise. I sat up slowly, stretched, yawned. It was...9:30.

...Well, it felt early. I threw off the covers and slowly stood up, still feeling the exhaustion of battle in every bone of my body. The clothing I'd left on the floor the night before had been folded up and set on top of the dresser, which had been fully stocked with our purchases.

Apparently, she was my maid too. Just one more thing to add to her list of titles.

Strands of my dream (memory?) still clung to my mind like stubborn cobwebs, and I felt filthy. I needed a shower but I needed food first...I threw on one of the looser t-shirts and followed the scent of coffee to the kitchen.

Rasa stood over a cutting board, her knife making sharp, rhythmic clacks as she sliced. The clean smell of cucumber filled the kitchen, and a plate of light cheese sat on the table. She was fully dressed and showered already; her hair hung damply across her shoulders, soaking her t-shirt. She focused intently on her work, as if she desperately feared that the knife might slip.

I spoke up quietly, a little worried about breaking such intense concentration. "L-labas rytas, Ms. Stankevičiūtė."

She didn't take her eyes off the sizzling pan. "Labas, Viltė. Please, just call me Rasa."

"Alright...R-Rasa, do you need any help with that...?"

"I've got it." Her answer was a little sharper than it needed to be, I thought. She finished up and carried the plate over to the table. I picked at the food; the hot ruby glare of my dreams still burned behind my eyes, and the cloying scent of blood seemed to linger around the room. I didn't feel much like eating.

A mug of steaming coffee appeared at my elbow. "You look like you didn't sleep so well."

"…No, not really."

"Well, eat up then, because it's going to be another long day." A bowl of small rolls took its place between the cucumber and cheese. _When did she go shopping?_

This was...a little uncomfortable to be honest. I could fix breakfast for myself, there really wasn't any need for her to do it. I'd been...well, _someone's _servant since the 1700's, and having someone else do all this for me was just...strange.

She picked up one of the rolls and split it with her thumb, pushing a chunk of cheese and a couple slices of cucumber between the halves. She leaned against the counter, took a bite of her creation, and stared out the front window, chewing meditatively.

"…I'm curious…"

She snapped her gaze to me. "Hm?"

"…How is all this being paid for?"

"Well believe it or not, there's a budget for these sorts of things. Either way, you don't need to worry about it. No one cares about a few thousand here and there in a general budget of billions."

"Ah…"

Another lengthy silence as she set her roll on a vacant napkin and started on a cup of coffee.

"…Thank you for fixing all this."

A long sip. "No problem."

"You really don't have to do all this, you know...getting up early and cooking and cleaning…" I tried not to sound ungrateful. I had been exhausted the night before and it was nice that I didn't have to worry about grocery shopping or getting up and fixing something for breakfast. But watching her do all the work was just…bothering me.

I wasn't sure if she was just taking her time to consider the statement as she juggled her breakfast again, setting down the steaming mug and finishing off her food. She brushed her hands off on her dark jeans and shrugged her sturdy shoulders. "Well, this is my _job_. The government's _paying_ me for this. So just relax and accept your right to be pampered for a little while." Her tone carried a note of finality.

Well, fine. Sure it would be a little uncomfortable, but it sounded like she wasn't going to _let_ me do anything even vaguely resembling housework.

She saw that I had left the food mostly untouched and abruptly changed the topic. "You done?" I hesitated and nodded. "Getting a shower this morning?" Another nod. She proceeded to search around in a plastic shopping bag. _What is she looking for?_ And then she found it. The package waited in her outstretched hand.

…_Šūdas._

"I think you know what to do."

I nodded resignedly and took it from her. Might as well get it over with…

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

"'Mane 'n Tail'?"

She looked up from her perch on the sofa. "What? It works. And you have no room to talk, Herbal Essences."

"W-well, I like it…" I replied lamely.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's see 'em."

I pulled the hems of my jeans up to my knees. She walked a full circle around me, inspecting the shining skin of my shins and nodding her approval.

"Great, now we can get you some shorts so you won't melt come July. Maybe even a nice dress or two." She stopped in front of me, having completed her circuit. "I'm going to assume you took care of those too." She gestured vaguely to my shoulder area, but I caught her drift and nodded, unabashed.

She fell silent for a moment; she seemed to be studying my expression. "…You know, forgive me for saying it, but you're a lot less uncomfortable with this than I thought you would be."

It was true. I was even less uncomfortable with it than _I'd_ thought I'd be. "Well, I have a…friend…who tends to dabble in…something of the sort. And he's the kind of person that likes to drag others with him into everything he does."

"He sounds…obnoxious. No offense meant, just my opinion."

"None taken." _You have no clue._

Her eyes skimmed over me briefly, absorbing, categorizing and comparing every detail. "A tip for future reference, when you're just standing like this, don't stand so still. Shift your weight some, or preen a little. Act self-conscious." I brushed a few wet strands of hair behind my ear and shifted onto my left leg. "More than that. You'll feel it in your knee when you've got it right." And I did feel it, the locked up tension. She was silent. My knee was starting to hurt; I stared at the floor and shuffled my other foot a little impatiently.

"Perfect, that's it." I looked up, astonished. She was grinning crookedly. "Add a hand on your hip every once in a while and you've got it." I winced when my knee popped as the weight was shifted off of it. _I'm getting old…_

"That's all. Go ahead and finish getting ready. I've got some things to take care of." She wandered back into the kitchen, her battered cell phone pressed to her ear, nervously fingering the pack of cigarettes in her pocket.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

From: Feliks  
>Time: 10:49 AM, 628/XX  
>Message: yo liet i had liek the weeeeeiiiirdestt dream<p>

From: Feliks  
>Time: 11:01 AM, 628/XX  
>Message: hey dont u evn wanna hear about it<p>

From: Feliks  
>Time: 11:06 AM, 628/XX  
>Message: fine b that way c if i care<p>

From: Feliks  
>Time: 11:09 AM, 628/XX  
>Message: cuz i totally dont no way<p>

From: Feliks  
>Time: 11:43 AM, 628/XX  
>Message: tooooooooor im waaaaaayyyyyyy booooooreddddddddddd)))':<p>

From: Feliks  
>Time: 11:55 AM, 628/XX  
>Message: how coud u liek ignor my triple frowny face not cool<p>

From: Feliks  
>Time: 12:12 PM, 628/XX  
>Message: now ur just totally being mean!1!11! DDDD':<p>

From: Feliks  
>Time: 12:23 PM, 628/XX  
>Message: hey u bettr not b hanging out with ivan cuz that guy gives me the creeeeeeeeps and hes liek totally stalkng u and its liek not healthy believ me i no<p>

From: Feliks  
>Time: 12:37 PM, 628/XX  
>Message: haha im liek boredd with my own stores so im totes goin shoppppppiiiiiinggg at some of urs! c how much fun i can have without u. wen u get back ur soooo gonna c aaaaalllll of the hawtt dresses i get and ur gonna be soooo jeeeeelllllyyyyyyy lolollolololololol<p>

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

It actually wasn't my first time in a makeup department. Or my second. Or even my fifth. I honestly didn't know how many times Poland had dragged me here to get my opinion on a new kind of mascara, a different color of eye shadow. And all the trips had a tendency to blur into one another…loud women in white coats, fussy wives and their incredibly bored husbands, a chaos of scents drifting over from the nearby perfume section, and always Feliks, dragging me frantically from one section to another.

At least Rasa had efficiently driven away all the pushy "specialists" and was searching through the endless racks, murmuring to herself in that special tone of hers that suggested she was only very grudgingly sharing her thoughts. "You're so pale…" She had gone through four or five different skin tones already, and shortly she emerged with yet another. "'Ivory'. Sounds promising." She rubbed the cool cream into what had to be the last untainted part of my cheek and grinned triumphantly. "It's a hair dark, but it'll be fine." She recapped the sample and searched the racks for an unopened tube. "There, that's the worst of it over, try not to look so tortured."

I slid off the high stool and rubbed at my face where the smears of foundation marked me. "You're enjoying this a little too much."

Frighteningly enough, she said nothing to deny it, only shrugged. "Now for shadow. I think an olive green would be lovely…" I watched her compact frame moving amongst the countertops, shifting my weight and running my fingers through my still unfamiliar short hair. I tried my best not to catch the gazes of the suffering husbands and boyfriends; I was too sympathetic to their plight.

Thankfully, my companion quickly finished her search without forcing me to try out anything else. It was as she was checking out that I caught sight of an all-too-familiar blonde bob making its way through the crowd towards the single register. I froze. "Rasa…"

She obviously heard the tension in my voice, but she stayed deceptively calm, giving nothing away. "What is it?"

"You remember that friend I told you about?" A barely perceptible nod. "Well, he's here…and he's ready to check out."

The ancient woman behind the register was moving agonizingly slow, saying something about a problem with the barcode on one of the products. She tapped away at the keyboard and frowned at the screen.

"…And how long have you two been friends?"

"A long time. A very very long time."

Her tone was low, sharp and efficient. "Relax. Pitch your voice up, just a little. Throw in a 'like' or two. Have faith in your cover and if he tries to make conversation, just…don't say anything stupid."

The clerk gave Rasa a wrinkled, apologetic smile. "I am truly sorry for the wait, dear, but I need to call my manager for the service code."

Rasa forced a smile. "Of course, I understand. Go ahead." The creaky voice rang out over the store, summoning a Jonas to the cosmetics department.

"Oh. My. God."

And there he was, flashy as ever in a blouse and colorful skirt. _Relax, relax, trust your cover, he can't know this quickly_…I turned slowly to look at him and put on my best questioning look.

His flat green gaze pierced into the (now) dark brown of my eyes.

And then, he exploded.

"Girl, that blouse is totally a-freaking-dorable! Like, where did you find it~?"

"Um…" _Pitch your voice up._ I could feel Rasa's eyes on the two of us. I tried not to overshoot. Just a little higher. I was a singer, I could do this… "T-thanks! I…like...found it here, actually…"

"Oh, wow, here? Like, I had no idea they had anything that cute! I'm totally going to have to look around some more!" He was practically bouncing with excitement; his paralyzing shyness and awkwardness would probably kick in at any moment.

The opening of the cash drawer announced the arrival of the manager and drew my focus away for a second or two while Rasa (finally) paid for everything.

His momentum broken, Feliks began to sink back into himself. "Well, like…seriously that blouse is super flattering, and- Oh, I think your friend's ready to go!" She was indeed, gesturing impatiently for me to join her. "It was totally cool talking to you, um…?"

"To-…Viltė."

"Like, cool. Anyways, Viltė, you better hurry before that girl like totally strokes out."

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

"Keep your legs together."

I paused, a french fry halfway to my mouth. "What?"

"The way you're sitting. Only men and loose women sit like that."

"…You know, there's a reason we sit like this."

"Yes, I know, I'm not an 8-year-old." She paused to eat the last of her fries. "I'm not saying you have to clamp them together or anything, just don't sit like that. It looks like you're advertising. No offense."

Well, I certainly didn't want that. I fixed my posture quickly and turned my attention back to my food. Yes, it was McDonald's. No, it wasn't terribly good. But it was cheap and quick, and as long as it wasn't a hamburger (in fact, it was a chicken sandwich), it was acceptable.

It was well past 2, so the food court wasn't packed, although it still buzzed with activity. Vendors' stalls ringed the area, selling everything from small toys to cell phone covers…and speaking of cell phones…

"Rasa…"

"Mm?"

"I…think I left my cell phone back at the house. _My_ house, I mean."

"Oh, you didn't. You tried to pack it, you just didn't see me put it back." I was about to comment but she cut me off. "Think about it; your cell phone is traceable. It's better if you don't carry it around. We can get a new one for you soon, if you want, but it would be fairly pointless since none of your friends' numbers will be in there, and you can use my phone for government calls if you must."

I rolled that over in my mind for a few minutes while I finished my sandwich.

"…Rasa?"

"What?"

I winced a little at her tone. It didn't bother me as much as it had at first, I don't think she knew how sharp it sounded, but still…"Speaking of the government…how is all my work being handled?"

"Madame President spread it out and dumped it on her secretaries. They'll take care of it until Monday, and then they'll just start sending it here so you can work like you usually do. If they need you in any meetings, I've got Skype on my laptop."

Monday…that meant tomorrow was clear too, and then I'd start working again. "Oh…alright…"

We ate in silence for a while. Rasa was edgy, as she always seemed to become in large crowds, and only ate about half of her sandwich. She spent most of her time tensely watching the people who walked by and-

"OHMYGOD, LIKE HEY YOU GUYS!"

…And Poland. Rasa visibly jumped and looked around agitatedly for the source of the obnoxious burst of sound. The blonde waved frantically, drawing the eyes of nearly every person in the area, including us. And he directed the attention of the entire food court straight to us as he weaved his way among the tables.

I thought I heard Rasa curse under her breath. Trust Feliks to make a scene.

"Hey, like, you mind if I join you?" He took a seat before either of us could answer. Rasa's muttered answer was quickly drowned out as he continued his thought. "Like, I'm Feliks, by the way, I meant to tell you earlier but I like got excited and totally forgot about it. I like thought about it as soon as I was out the door, I'm like such a spaz, I can't believe I totally forgot to tell you my name! Wow, those fries look really good, can I like have one?" He reached over and grabbed a few, before continuing on his rant, occasionally pausing to munch on his loot. "So you know that like way sexy eye shadow you got earlier? Well," Chew, chew, swallow. "I saw this totally great dress that I think would look A-MA-ZING on you with that shadow and like a little mascara, and-" He devoured what was left of the fries he stole. "And I've sooo got to show it to you A-S-A-P!"

I winced. He was as loud as ever. "W-well, we're sort of eating right now, and we were planning to leave after this-"

"Actually," Great, now Rasa was interrupting me too. What was this, a World Conference? "You could use a couple dresses, Viltė. Every woman at least needs an LBD."

I sent her a questioning look. _An LBD…?_

"You mean…You _don't_ have _an LBD?_" He was incredulous.

"Um…n-no, I don't think so…"

Suddenly, his face was set seriously. "This is an emergency. Like, you're done eating, come on." He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of my chair back towards the dreaded department store.

"Wait, shouldn't we clean up after lunch? And we need to wait on Rasa, and-"

"Stop worrying! We totally have like…" He struggled briefly to think of the word and gave up. "Cleaning people for that stuff! And your friend will catch up! This takes priority!"

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

"Go, like hurry up and try them on!" Feliks ushered me into a dressing room, hung a selection of dresses on one of the hooks and closed the door on his way out.

I sighed. I was perfectly comfortable in my jeans, irritatingly fitted as they were. Oh well, the quicker I got this over with, the quicker we could be out of this place and on our way home. Temporary home.

The first dress was the LBD that had been the original focus of our search. Simply and modestly cut, rather unremarkable black knit, as the name would imply (while Feliks was hunting down the dress he'd said I "like HAD to try on", Rasa pulled me aside and explained the acronym).

My OCD dictated that I fold my t-shirt and jeans as I took them off and placed them in the corner. I did my best to ignore the strange reflection in the full-length mirror and pulled the dress on. It was comfortable if nothing else, and the knit had a nice weight to it. I caught a brief glimpse of myself and did a double take. There was no way that was _me_…

It was beyond disorienting, staring at that person in the mirror. Her dress fit perfectly, the neckline reaching below the collarbone and the hem hanging just past the knees. The cut of the fabric smoothed the edges of the girl's shoulders, her hips…she had _curves_.

I shook my head and turned my gaze to the nondescript walls of the dressing room. That was just…too weird.

"Viltė, hurry up!" Rasa. Right, they were waiting on me…I took a steadying breath and opened the door.

She was silent for a long moment, and I began to get nervous as her eyes traveled over me.

"…Wow."

Well, that certainly hadn't been what I expected.

She nodded slowly. "Turn around." I did so, feeling the hem swish around my legs. "That looks…pretty great, actually. Feliks did really well with that. How does it feel?"

"Um…good, I guess…where is he?"

"He saw something and ran off," she answered dismissively. "By the way, I'm intrigued…how did you already know your dress size?" Her gaze wasn't critical, but I winced and felt my face go hot and cold at the question and the memories associated.

"…I-it's sort of a long sto-"

"Wow, Viltė, you look like totally hot in that dress!" For once, I was almost glad of Poland's noisy interruption. Almost. I felt sure my face resembled a ripe tomato by that point. He gestured towards the section he had come from. "I thought I saw another one over there, but they like didn't have your- Hey!" His hands were on his hips now, and he was staring up at me in disapproval. "Like what're you blushing for? You look amazing in that dress, like, be proud!"

"A-alright, um…thanks-"

"Yeah, yeah, go try on the others now, I like soooo wanna see them!"

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

We ended up buying the black dress, along with a more embellished ankle-length dark green dress that Feliks claimed made me "totally look like a supermodel or something". We had spent the last hour and a half wandering through every other store in the mall and I could tell the crowds and the pointless window shopping were starting to take their toll on Rasa's already limited patience.

Feliks, of course, was oblivious. "Hey, you remember that cute top back at the like second or third store? I think we should like go back and get that one, I bet it would look totally great on y-"

"You know Feliks," Her voice cut sharply through his rambling; her impatience was audible. "It's getting late, and Viltė and I actually have a lot that we still need to do today."

What…? _Dievas_, please, no…

"Oh…" He pouted slightly and considered the monkey wrench that had just appeared in his otherwise perfect plan. "Well…it like won't take long at all…just really quick, let's go and like check that store out one more time!" He grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me back towards the other end of the store. I wasn't sure which was worse at this point, going back through _another_ clothes store, or doing everything Rasa said we still needed to do…

It turned out I had no say in the matter. Rasa's strong arm wrapped around my shoulders, effectively preventing Poland's attempts to continue the shopping spree.

"We have a lot to do today. We need to go." Her tone was dangerous, and her grip around my shoulder was almost painfully tight. _Please Feliks, just let us go before she goes into…bodyguard mode or whatever it is and kills someone…_

He pouted and huffed, but let go of my wrist. "Fine. But like, we totally need to do this again. Like what's your phone number?"

Sensing escape, Rasa quickly gave him the number to the flat and he finally let us go, waving energetically as we left.

Rasa was silent as we got in the car and pulled back onto the highway. Her agitated driving was making me nervous, but I finally decided I had to know exactly what torture I had yet to go through today. I clung tightly to the door as she sped angrily around the car that had been in front of us. A chorus of honking only urged her to go even faster. "Um…"

"What?"

I was almost used to her snappy replies by now, and I honestly didn't blame her. Three hours with Feliks was enough to irritate anybody. "What exactly do we have left to do today…?"

She stared at me blankly until the car edged onto the stripes at the edge of the road. The sudden noise caused her to pull sharply back into her lane, knocking me into the door. Surely she was going _way _over the speed limit…

"…Oh, right, that. I lied."

"…Ah."

She was silent for a minute or two as she gritted her teeth angrily and weaved through the traffic. She spoke again as soon as the traffic thinned. "And you said you two have been friends for a long time? I really don't know how you deal with him."

"W-well, friends is a loose term, we were sort of…forced to be friendly."

"…Huh."

She fell silent and remained so until the moment that she parked in front of our home.

"…How long did you say you've been friends with him?"

"A long time-"

"How long?"

Ah. I had known she was curious, but she'd been holding herself back until now. She wanted to know, and I didn't blame her. It wasn't really classified information, but the president was a little uncomfortable with it herself and had probably edged around the topic as much as she could, even before an assignment like this. After all, if Rasa needed to know, I'd gladly tell her everything. I assumed that she'd heard rumors. She probably knew something of my strangeness, something of my rank, but they were only half-formed whisperings that refused to solidify into an understandable picture for her. The vagueness and half-answered questions were grating on her nerves. She wasn't satisfied with rumors; unlike many in our bureaucracy, she was willingly seeking the truth in this, regardless of its strange implications.

"How long, Viltė?"

"…Almost 500 years."

Her expression betrayed nothing but I could see that she was turning that information over and over in her mind, trying to make some sense of it.

"And…how old are you?"

"I…don't know for sure. Probably...around 1000 years."

Again she rolled that information around in her brain until it lost its edge of shock and she was able, to a certain extent, to accept it.

Then came the real question, always the most difficult to answer.

"Viltė…what _are_ you?"

"W-well…I am your nation. _Aš esu Lietuva_."

* * *

><p><strong>That ended up being a lot longer than I intended.<strong>

**Notes:**

**Tannenberg - _The_ decisive battle between the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and Prussia, the two major Eastern European powers in the mid 1500's. The Commonwealth kicked butt. If you want to know more, search Battle of Grunwald on Wikipedia.**

**_Labas rytas _- Good morning**

**_Labas_ - Hey**

**_Šūdas - _As far as I know, something along the lines of "shit". I could very easily be wrong.**

**McDonald's - Yes, they have McDonald's. There are 5 in Vilnius alone. This has convinced me that there are far too many McDonald's in the world.**

**LBD - For those of you who may not know, it's a Little Black Dress. Solid black and often plainly cut, it's wonderful because not only does black go with every other color making it easy to accessorize, it's also an appropriate color for almost every occasion.**

**_Aš esu Lietuva__ - _I am Lithuania. Again, I could be wrong.**

**That's it for now! Prussia will show up soon, I promise. ;)**

**Really guys, reviews=happy dance, and happy dance=funny video on youtube. You know you'd love to see more funny videos on youtube. So review please!**

**~Erisu Koumei**


	3. Chapter 3

**It's exam season, hooray! It's amazing I got this done! Not only did I get it done, it's 13 pages long! :'D I'm so proud of myself!**

**You know why it's 13 pages? These people inspire me: Sunny-Blue-Sky, Fanime-Sensei Strikes Back, Don'tDreamItBeIt, Maiya123, and Love-Me-Insanity are wonderful because they all reviewed! Maiya-123 and 4nim3fr33k are also awesome because they favorited~**

**EDIT: Apparently, this was chapter 1 for a while. My bad. Silly uploading system. Anyways, it's fixed now.**

**Anyways, I'll shut up so you can read chapter 3. Enjoy~**

**Chapter 3**

"Alright…let's try this again. _What_ did you say you were…?"

Rasa was slumped in a plush recliner, her head resting on one of her large hands. Even her hair seemed to hang tiredly in its ponytail; it had been a long day for both of us.

"I am Lithuania. Well…really, the anthropomorphic representation of the Republic of Lithuania, but that's a mouthful."

"…As many questions as that raises, I'm going to spare us both and only ask one of them. How exactly does that _work_?"

"Wrong question…even we aren't really sure how or why we exist, but we do," I said a little sheepishly. "Sorry, that was a really bad answer. Y-you can have another question if you want, I don't mind answering…"

"Alright, just one more, to help me wrap my mind around this. You say you're Lithuania, which I still doubt is actually possible. But if you are somehow a country, what does that mean? Are you just…a landmass, or are you a group of people or what?"

She was obviously still struggling with the concept, although the vagueness of the word itself wasn't helping much. I tried to be as clear as possible. "Well, I'm not really any of that…all of that is exactly what it is: dirt and rock, trees and people. That's not me, that's not what I am. I just…represent all those things. I represent everything within these borders." She stared at me blankly. "Does that make any sense…?"

"…A little. I think."

How to explain this… "Um…for example…remember a few summers ago, there was a bad drought that caused a lot of forest fires? W-well for most of that summer I was very weak, and I had a high fever. I got burns on my arms too, and some of them scarred."

"That seems…really awful. Does that kind of thing happen to you every time there's a natural disaster?"

"Well it depends on the disaster- H-hey, you said one question!"

"So I did. Sorry."

There followed what felt like an incredibly lengthy silence. I could almost feel her curiosity, and I anticipated another question even before she moved to ask it. But just as she opened her mouth, a loud gurgling filled the room. My face burned and I covered my stomach and tried my best to melt between the sofa cushions. And then I noticed that Rasa's shoulders were shaking.

_She was laughing_.

Not loud laughing, but chuckling nonetheless. I…honestly hadn't known she could laugh. Most of the time she was tense, or frustrated, or just painfully introverted.

It was a step in the right direction, if nothing else.

I still wanted to disappear.

Finally the chuckling began to subside. "Sorry, I just…the timing was _perfect_, it caught me off guard…" She took a breath and let it out, trying to regain her composure, although a slight smirk remained on her face. "I'm afraid I don't feel much like cooking. How does pizza sound to you and your ravenous friend over there?"

_Pizza._ It was so bad for me. I hadn't had it in years. But…peppers, mushrooms, extra cheese…

My stomach growled demandingly.

"Pizza sounds great."

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

Rasa stood on the front step, a glowing cigarette dangling between her fingers. Inside, an empty pizza box sat on the kitchen counter waiting to be thrown away. The pipes in the house creaked as the shower turned on.

Her fingers jerked restlessly and a small chunk of ash floated to the ground. It was a nice night for late June, warm and not too humid. A light northern breeze carried the sounds of the city further inland.

Her fingers twitched again and she raised the cigarette back to her lips, taking a drag and blowing the smoke out slowly. This was her first serious job. Sure, she'd been in training for years, but for some reason, this was stressing her out a lot more.

It certainly wasn't her charge's fault. He (she? How could a country have gender anyways?) had been perfectly compliant and had raised little to no protest to any of the measures that had to be taken. Certainly, as government figures went, she could've gotten much worse.

No, it certainly wasn't her charge that was stressing her out…what was it then? She'd been fine for the first few hours. Maybe it was the crowds. She hated crowds. They pushed and shoved and foamed around you, trying to drag you under like some sort of malignant ocean. They tried to make stupid pointless small talk with her even though chances were they'd never see each other again. It didn't make any sense, and trying to answer them just wore her down.

She was honestly glad that this was a solo assignment; she wouldn't have been able to stand staying with more than one other person. It would've driven her crazy. And when she thought about, it was a great honor, what she was doing. A lot of people could say that they were protecting their country, but here she was, actually _protecting her country_. It wasn't exactly what she'd envisioned, but it was close enough, and the pay certainly more than made up for it.

She took another drag from the cigarette. Maybe what was really stressing her out was that she was starting to like this person…nation…representative thing. Maybe that was only natural; strange and difficult to accept as it was, he claimed to be her _nation_, and she certainly loved her nation. She wouldn't be in a job like this otherwise. She never would've bothered to claw her way up through the bureaucracy if she wasn't patriotic.

But at the same time, if things ever got messy, emotions could really cloud her judgment. It was different when it was some faceless examiner in a simulation, someone she really couldn't care less about on a personal level. She didn't care what they looked like or where they grew up; they were, quite frankly, boring to her, and she knew that she would most likely never interact with them again. And that was what her missions were _supposed_ to be like, dammit, none of this one-on-one, living together, bonding shit, she hadn't been _trained_ for _anything _like this, she wasn't _prepared, _what if something-

She threw the still-glowing cigarette butt on the sidewalk and ground violently it under the heel of her boot, extinguishing any doubts along with the embers. She wasn't sure why she hadn't been told more about this mission, but it wasn't her place to question her orders. She glimpsed up at the moon briefly, steeling herself, before turning around and going back inside.

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

_The dark, fertile earth was warm. Stubble from the previous harvest poked into my back and tangled itself in my hair. A mild breeze wafted over the fields, carrying the scent of the leaves budding in the forest. The late morning sunlight was bright and felt like a warm, soft cloth on my upturned face. Far, far away, a lone bird sang._

_I cherished these moments of peace. I felt most like myself when I was like this, lying on my back, surrounded only by the earth and the sky. No commanders pressing me to train longer, more frequently. No diplomats demanding my attention. Even my people felt distant; I felt almost completely separated from them, like I was my own person, with my own personality, my own thoughts and feelings. I felt like I was free._

_The Polish diplomatic attachment would be arriving soon. I should be there to meet them. I should probably be clean too, and dressed in something other than my work clothes. _

_But even that relatively important duty only prodded at me lightly. The weather was divine…I always loved springtime._

…_Well, if I was going to go, I could at least have some fun with it._

_I flew down the road, the wind gusting at my back. All around me, the fields stretched on for miles, lying patiently fallow. The dirt was hard and dry but warm against the calloused soles of my feet. Then it suddenly became cool and soft as the forest surrounded me. I dodged around every obstacle with the sureness that comes from running the same path for decades. _

_I walked silently up to the east gate and pressed my ear against the worn wood. It sounded like the younger princes were in the garden for recess. Which meant that the queen would be there too, watching over them. I sighed. Oh well. _

_I managed to get about 50 feet into the open space before being ambushed by the small group of royal heirs brandishing some rather dangerous-looking twigs. The oldest (he was about 8) raised a cry of "Charge!" and promptly dashed towards me with his ragged band. I caught the younger ones as they came, and laughed with them as they tried to vanquish me with their deadly weapons. I intercepted the eldest as well, and he struggled. "Let me go! Let me go so I can defeat you and throw you in the dungeon! I'll throw you in the dungeon and you'll never see the light again and you'll beg and beg and-"_

_I laughed. "That's enough, little conqueror. I believe you, and I'm absolutely terrified."_

"_You better be! 'Cuz mama's really mad at you, and if I didn't throw you in the dungeon she would!" _

_And indeed the mother in question was walking towards us, her gaze critical. The boys milling around my legs gave up on their goal of capturing me and shrunk away from the dangerous aura surrounding their mother. The eldest worked his way free and hid behind her maternal frame. _

_She looked me over disdainfully, taking in the grass and leaves in my disheveled hair, the dirt on my clothing. "Where were you? We've been searching the castle all morning."_

"_I'm sorry madam, I just went out to the fields for a little while-"_

"_I thought we told you not to leave the grounds this morning! Come, you need to be prepared to meet the Polish ambassadors."_

_The children watched warily as I was dragged away to my fate, not understanding and wishing not to understand for just a few more years._

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

Early sun washed palely but warmly through the curtains; a light breeze brushed through my hair, and the air smelled fresh and verdant. The window was open. I didn't remember leaving it like that, but with the weather as nice as it was, there was no harm in it. I threw off the blankets and the sunlight caressed my skin. The sky was a hard pale blue that promised a hot day.

I felt good this morning, better than I had since this whole mess had started. Through the open doors of the bathroom that connected our rooms I could see that Rasa was still asleep; light snores echoed across the space. More proof that she was actually human. Not only did she laugh, but she actually _slept_. I felt a slight smile making its way onto my face.

I got dressed quickly: light jeans, bra, fitted tee. Right contact, left contact, and voila, hazel eyes. It wasn't as odd if I just didn't think about it. I stared critically into the mirror for a few seconds before running a comb through my shorter-than-it-should-be hair. I was getting used to the new appearance the more I was forced to look at it.

I fixed coffee and pulled out the remaining slices of pizza for breakfast. It felt…mundane, for lack of a better word. Wonderfully, beautifully mundane. A grain of normalcy after the craziness of the past 48 hours. Sitting alone in the kitchen, eating my breakfast and sipping good coffee. It was blissful.

Surprisingly, Rasa's appearance in the kitchen a few minutes later did nothing to ruffle my calm. Despite her position regarding me and my current situation, I had become a lot more comfortable with her around. Her presence was a part of what made this place what it was. I was becoming accustomed to feeling her nearby just as I was becoming accustomed to every other change in my life.

"What's on the schedule for today?"

"Coffee first," she mumbled. "No questions before coffee." She filled a mug and took a long drink, sighing as the hot liquid settled in her stomach. "We need to go grocery shopping, that's first priority…We only have what I managed to bring over from my house. And at some point we need to get you some shoes other than tennis shoes, to go with those dresses. Other than that…" She took another sip of coffee. "I don't think there's anything else we need to do right now."

"Great." I offered her the plate of reheated dinner. "Pizza?"

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

-2 missed calls-

-2 new voicemails-

-First message, 1:38 PM, 6/27/XX-

"H-hi Toris, it's R-Raivis, um…s-so you know how t-the Eastern European C-Conference is in a few w-weeks? Y-you know I always g-get really nervous when I h-have to speak, especially when M-Mr. R-Russia is s-sitting r-right there…b-but you always m-manage to speak r-really well! A-and I was wondering if m-maybe you could g-give me some p-pointers sometime soon…u-um, thanks, c-call me back, bye!"

-Second message, 9:27 AM, 6/29/XX-

"Hello Toris, it's Eduard. I finished the presentation about the Baltic oil pipeline and sent it to you by email. If you could take a look at it sometime soon and give me your opinion on it that would be great. Also, feel free to add any information I may have missed, although I'm pretty sure I got it all. Also, Raivis is becoming a little frantic and he's taken to calling me three times a day, so I would really like it if you called him back soon."

-End of messages-

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

"I'd like to plant a garden."

Rasa turned her attention from the elderly woman checking out in front of us and looked at me in disbelief. "What? Why? We're not going to be staying long enough for anything to grow."

I was admiring the potted herbs and small berry bushes at the front of the store. "I know, but it would be nice to have something. There's no harm in it…"

She just stared at me for a few moments longer and then cast a glance at the woman in front of us: she still had at least 50 items to go, plus whatever coupons she could produce from her worn handbag. The line stretched far behind us and I could see how little Rasa wanted to give up her spot. It had been torture for her, waiting pressed between this many people long enough to get to the front of the line, and the last thing she wanted to do was wait again. "…Fine. But be quick. And no more than 4 or 5 plants!"

20 minutes later I was pushing a shopping cart full of various plants, bags of potting soil, and other garden necessities towards the car. Rasa stalked behind the buggy, at least 7 bags of groceries dangling from her arms.

"Before you get any ideas, I'm not encouraging this."

"That's fine, I'll take care of it." I had been a farmer for centuries, a small garden was easy enough to handle.

"We barely have a front yard to plant any of this in."

"There's enough space."

"The people who move in after us aren't going to appreciate having no yard at all."

"They can just dig them up if they don't like them. Or cover them with sod."

"…You're really determined to make this work, aren't you."

"I like growing things."

"Obviously." She set down three of the bags and pulled her keys out of her pocket, unlocking the doors. She put the groceries in the back seat and left me to load my plants into the trunk. Shortly I heard the engine start and the A/C kicked on. It was already getting hot outside. "…Why exactly do you like growing things so much?"

"That counts as your question for today."

"Oh, is it only one a day?"

"Well, I assumed that was what you meant." She grumbled but didn't take it back, so I continued. "Up until relatively recently, I've been something of a breadbox of Europe, along with Poland. I've spent more of my life wandering through rye fields than anywhere else. I have lots of good, fertile land, and I took advantage of it." I loaded the last of the plants into the trunk and dusted off my hands. "It just comes naturally, I guess."

I slammed the door shut and handed the cart off to a passing employee before sliding into the passenger seat. After a few minutes of riding in silence, I felt obliged to try and continue the conversation. "You know, you ask a lot about me, and that's understandable. But you haven't told me much about yourself in return."

"I didn't realize this was a trade." She tapped her fingers impatiently on the rim of the steering wheel, waiting on an absurdly long traffic light. "Besides, you haven't asked. If you're curious, you should just ask."

Easier said than done. She seemed pretty cold and intimidating most of the time, the last thing I'd want to do is ask her about something she didn't want to talk about. Of course…that probably meant just about everything. "Well…how did you get involved in the service? I know you had some relatives in it, is that why?"

"Sort of." She took off from the light as soon as it turned green and passed a slow truck sharply, completely unruffled by her own aggressive driving. I clung to the seat. "I needed a job one summer, and my uncle let me help with their less sensitive filing and stuff for a rock bottom wage. I grew up in the 90's, so there was still a lot of that nationalism floating around, and I grew up pretty patriotic. After working in the government a while I thought 'Hell, why not?' and joined. And why the service? Well," She dodged around another car and received a chorus of honking. "I wanted to do something that was more physical than clerical. I've always been…athletic. I don't have the face for secretary work." She laughed dryly.

_Grew up in the 90's? That would put her…_ "So you're in your 20's then?"

"Hey, if I only get one question a day, so do you." Her answer was a little sharper than necessary.

"Alright, alright…"

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

It had gotten as hot as the morning had promised, if not hotter. I was regretting not having any shorts right now…It had only taken an hour or so to assemble a garden box, but now the sun was almost directly overhead. I sighed and wiped my arm across my forehead. _Global warming is a myth. Ha. Yeah right._

"…I'm not helping you plant those things, by the way." Rasa sat on the front step, a cigarette in one hand and a glass of cold green tea in the other.

"I figured."

"And believe me, I'm doing you a service by not helping. I've never managed to make anything like that bear fruit." She sipped her tea. "Damn, it's a scorcher today, huh…"

Well, that was news. "And here I was convinced that you were good at everything."

"Hm?" She thought back to what she had said first. "Oh. Do I give that impression?"

"Well," I counted on my fingers. "You cook, you clean, you bodyguard, you're a master of disguise, you speak at least 3 languages flawlessly, you know something about interior design since I assume you furnished our house, you drive like a maniac and somehow never wreck, plus you have fairly good fashion sense and taste in makeup, even though you never wear any. I wouldn't be terribly surprised if gardening was on that list somewhere."

"Well, a lot of that I learned at home, and some I learned in training. The only reason I don't wreck is because everyone else is paying attention. If I ever met someone as crazy as me, well…" She laughed and took a short drag off the cigarette. She somehow seemed perfectly comfortable in her usual t-shirt, jeans, and heavy boots. After a somewhat grudging silence, she continued. "The interior design is…sort of a hobby. And the makeup is just part of being a woman. You know how to do your makeup, regardless of if you ever wear it or not. I've just never cared for it much. A little makeup isn't going to save my appearance." She laughed shortly, finding some kind of humor in the self-deprecation.

"Well, I think you look fine without it."

"…..You're just a really nice person, aren't you."

"No! Well…maybe, but I'm being serious. And I think you should come over here and help me plant these strawberries."

"If I touch them, you won't _have _any strawberries."

"They've already got little fruits on them!"

"They'd rot and fall off."

"Stop beating yourself up and help me plant these." I was a little surprised at my own assertiveness. But it was irritating me, hearing her say things like that about herself for no reason. "Have some confidence! They'll grow fine."

She just stared at me, and she looked a little shocked. Then her face cracked into her trademark crooked smirk. "Aren't we just feeling bossy today? Let me finish my tea, and I'll help." She had most of the glass left.

"Leave it over there, and you can drink it as we go. Come on."

She sighed. "Fine, fine, I'm coming."

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

The drowsy warmth of early afternoon had settled over the house. Rasa was in the kitchen, cleaning up after lunch even though I'd offered to do it, asserting yet again that it was her job to take care of those sorts of things. There was a bay window in the kitchen that looked out over the newly planted garden. I sat in the window seat and looked over the rows of young plants: blooming cucumbers, strawberries, and in the front, a row of carrots, their tubers concealed underground. My head rested against the warm glass of the window. A nap seemed good right about then…

Rasa's voice sounded over the rushing of the sink."I thought about going out for dinner tonight. Somewhere nice. It would give you a chance to wear one of your new dresses." She turned the water off and dried her hands. "But we'd have to go shoe shopping. And we probably both need showers."

" 'at's fine…" I mumbled, not bothering to look her way.

"Which means you need to wake up, sleepyhead, and get moving."

Somehow she got me up, and an hour and a half later, I was on the third pair of heels that she'd picked out for me. Black, with straps across the top that made them feel almost like sandals. They were thankfully relatively plain, with thick, short heels.

"Alright, stand up." I did, wobbling only a little as I found my balance. "Hmm…How do they feel?"

"Exactly the same as the last two pairs."

She crossed her arms. "Alright, I know that's a lie, this pair's completely different."

"They all feel the same! Ridiculously uncomfortable!"

"Welcome to our world. Walk around some. You'll be able to tell the difference."

I walked the length of the section and came back, proud of myself for not stumbling this time. These shoes were a little better…the heel was thicker and shorter, easier to balance on and much more comfortable.

"…Alright, yes, they're different."

"Good different?" I nodded. "Good. Because they're cute, and we're buying them. God knows when we'll find another cute pair of shoes in a 42…You're lucky you have small feet."

I sighed. At least we'd found a pair. Hopefully, this would be the end of our shopping adventures.

…Somehow, though, I really doubted it.

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

The water felt absolutely heavenly.

Rasa had taken a quick shower, and I was making full use of the remainder of the hot water supply. I felt like I deserved it, after the weekend I'd had. Having my entire way of life flipped on its head had really stressed me out.

Also, the longer I spent in the shower, the more time there was between me and a serious makeover.

Needless to say, I wasn't really looking forward to spending the evening in makeup and a dress and heels. The restaurant itself was fine, one of my favorites, and I hadn't been there in a while. I just…wished I could go in something different.

The water began to turn lukewarm. I turned it off and got out, wrapping the available towel around my waist with a sigh. _And the torture begins anew…_

What I didn't expect was for Rasa to be standing in front of the mirror when I got out, doing something to her hair. _Curling it, maybe_? She was unruffled by my appearance, glancing over only briefly.

"Hey Viltė, go ahead and change into your dress, I'll be done with this in a second." She refocused all of her attention on the hot iron, leaving me to do as I was told.

I felt self-conscious, seeing myself in the mirror. Not because I was shy or anything, and not because she was a woman, but because…

My shoulders throbbed gently, reminding me. I walked carefully around her, keeping my back to the wall, only turning once I was sure she was engrossed in whatever it was she was doing. I closed the door quickly and leaned against it. Now that I was thinking about it, my back ached all over. I got dressed slowly, pulling the dress on over my head and glancing in the mirror. It wasn't the same effect as before, but then again, my hair was still wet…

Rasa knocked on the door, two sharp beats. "Viltė, are you done yet?"

"Y-yes, hold on!" I opened the door and was actually shocked briefly into silence. Rasa looked completely different. Her dirty blonde hair hung to her shoulders in loose curls. Her dress was dark navy blue and as simply cut as mine, hanging almost straight down from her wide shoulders. She wore only a light layer of foundation (it evened her skin tone but didn't manage to conceal her freckles), and dark eyeshadow that made her flat gray eyes look almost silvery. She still wasn't beautiful, neither her face nor her body had the softness or shape necessary for beauty. But it was certainly…different to see her like that.

"Come on," She pulled me in front of the mirror. "Let's get you fixed up."

She effortlessly restyled my hair, giving it the light feathery look it had had a few days before. Then she pulled out the makeup. First the powder, then the blush, the eyeshadow and mascara. I sat as patiently as I could, trying not to be too uncomfortable when her fingers swiped across my eyelids.

My eyes were still closed when she finished. "Alright…take a look. I think I did pretty well, if I do say so myself."

She had indeed. The olive shadow brought out the green undertones that shone through the brown tint of the contacts. My eyelashes looked abnormally long and thick, and they felt odd when I blinked, but they framed my eyes nicely. My skin looked almost like porcelain; I hadn't really realized before now just how pale I was. But overall, I looked…well…_beautiful_.

…And that was possibly the most awkward thought that has ever entered my mind.

She draped a thin, nearly weightless gray scarf around my neck and slipped a pair of decorative silver pins into my hair, right above my left ear. I wondered vaguely where she got them, but didn't bother to ask. I was still stumbling over my appearance.

"And…you're good. Come on, put your shoes on and let's go."

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

From: Gil  
>Time: 4:33 PM, 629/XX  
>Message: hey toris, west couldnt handle my immense awesomeness so he unawesomely kicked me out again. i figured id just hang out with you until he comes to his senses.<p>

From: Gil  
>Time: 4:36 PM, 629/XX  
>Message: id stay with francis or toni but it would be way unawesome if i had to spend several months getting rapedlistening to rants about tomatoes and lovi

From: Gil  
>Time: 4:42 PM, 629/XX  
>Message: i even decided in my awesomeness to give you a heads up this time<p>

From: Gil  
>Time: 4:45 PM, 629/XX  
>Message: btw ill probably be in late so your spare key better be in the same place it was in 96 or i WILL break in.<p>

From: Gil  
>Time: 5:56 PM, 629/XX  
>Message: woooah hey you never told me vilnius had all these awesome bars! that was way unawesome keeping something like that a secret!<p>

From: Gil  
>Time: 6:45 PM, 629/XX  
>Message: u no i said id be late ich meinte dass wäre ich seeeeehr spät kesesesese<p>

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

Dinner had been mostly uneventful. The atmosphere was nice, the food was great, and for once I wasn't fretting about the cost. We sat outside and drank summer wine (at least I did) and talked quietly about whatever came to mind as we watched the moon rise.

…I say mostly uneventful. From the moment I stepped foot in the restaurant, I felt self-conscious. It was as if every eye in the restaurant was on me. Every male eye, at least. Some of them weren't even trying to be subtle, staring right over their partners' shoulders.

Not for the first time, I cursed my slight build. If I had to look like a woman, would it be too much to ask to look like an _unattractive_ woman? Or an average woman, if nothing else.

At least sitting out on the patio in the dark, I couldn't see them. Thankfully none of them approached me. I honestly wasn't sure how I would deal with it if one of them did.

Rasa, unfortunately, seemed to think it was amusing.

"There was that one guy, with the blonde hair, he was being so obvious that his wife actually called him out about it!" We were weaving our way through the nighttime crowds, making our way back to our parking spot a few blocks away.

"And then-…Viltė, why are you just standing there? Come on, it's late as it is, I'd like to get home before 10."

I'd seen it, I was sure of it. A shock of silver hair in the sea of youths, characteristically thick and messy. I followed it. _Of all the times for _him_ to be here…_

"Hey, the car's that way! Shit-" Rasa pushed her way past people, her compact frame just barely allowing her to keep up with me. There it was again. It was heading out of the crowds. I slipped between the people obstructing my view, ignoring their indignant cries.

Finally the crowd thinned to nothing, and I saw him. He was staggering, barely on his feet. _Damn, he must've started early_…_He's probably trying to get back to my house, if he even remembers that much, and the last thing I want is him there alone. He'll probably wonder where I am, he might even go picking fights with Russia, dammit, of all the times for him to visit-_

A clumsy hand on my backside quickly froze all other thought. A voice slurred thickly behind me.

"Hey babe, whadd're ya doin' out here all by yasel-" There was a sickening crack and the touch disappeared. I heard the man's body crumple to the ground.

"Viltė, what the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?"

I wasn't listening. I was still in shock. Less than fifty feet ahead of me, I saw him stumble and fall. It barely registered.

"Viltė, snap out of it!" She shook me roughly and a single thought managed to make its way sluggishly to the front of my mind. _I can't just leave him there_. I broke out of her grip easily and made my way over to him. Rasa followed closely.

He was out cold, his hands slowly oozing blood where he'd scraped them on the concrete.

"Who the hell is this? Do you know him?"

"Yes…It's Gilbert. It's Prussia."

* * *

><p><strong>DUN DUN DUN. The Awesome Prussia has officially entered the story. Or...collapsed drunkenly into the story.<strong>

**NOTES:**

**ich meinte dass wäre ich seeeeehr spät - I meant I'd be reaaaaaally late**

**Yes, they do have pizza in Lithuania. **

**And that's all for now! By the way, this is probably the last chapter for a while. AP's are in a week. I need to crack down. So I apologize in advance for further delay of this story.**

**Review please! Reviews keep me going! They make me happier than a bird with a french fry! And studies show that happy writers write more! All criticism is welcome!**

**~Erisu Koumei**


	4. Chapter 4

**Tada~! I'm back. I bet you guys thought I'd abandoned you. I said it would be awhile, I'm really really sorry! . *shot***

**ANYWAYS, about 2 weeks of that was finals, and the other 2 weeks was the mandatory technology-free Rocky Mountain family vacation. orz *shot again***

**But your reviews really inspired me! So, here's my thank-yous for this time: Sunny-Blue-Sky, Love-Me-Insanity, 4nim3fr33k, Mady (times two), Kelina Dawn Hearan, Ivi (I answered your questions at the end), and Lessie Daymon~! I love you all. :3**

**Also, thanks to Myrna Maeve, fluffymagentajellyfish, pofien, KuzukiTani, Kelina Dawn Hearan, and Malice Archangela for favoriting/alerting. I hope to hear from you soon~ ;D**

**Warnings: Prussia's foul language.**

**Anyways, that's all for now. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 4**

Disjointed scenes drifted through his mind. The last thing he clearly remembered was…well…there wasn't much from that evening that he clearly remembered. All the dingy bars and half-assed cocktails and barely-clothed women competing for his attention had sort of blurred together after awhile. And all the raw alcohol wasn't helping. He staggered out of the latest bar and into the streets, breathing the somewhat stuffy summer air. There were people _everywhere_, he hadn't thought there were this many people in the whole damn _country_. Where the hell did they all come from all of a sudden?

Normally he was ok with crowds, but right then he _loathed_ them. It was too humid and close, no wind blowing, people all around. Go this way, it looks emptier. Go this way. Seems familiar, maybe on the way…on the way to what? He never visited this place, why was he here anyways? He'd had a reason, he was sure, but he was far too busy enjoying his momentary oblivion to try and think of it.

There were indeed less people further down the street, and he felt like he could breathe finally, but his legs weren't working right. _Move, dammit, why're my legs so fucking heavy,_ he thought, and immediately after, _Because, dumbshit, you're drunk off your awesomely sexy ass. _Of course, that was why, it was so clear he could laugh. And in fact, he did, very loudly, just so he could show the few spectators how brilliant his conclusion was. _I came here and I got drunk and that's all._ But that wasn't all, his feet were trying to take him somewhere. _Ok, awesome feet of mine, you're probably more sober than me, lead the way._

And he got the feeling that they sincerely tried, but somehow he still ended up lovingly embracing the concrete. Pain radiated dully from his hands, his eyes were closed and it seemed like time might have passed. He heard voices, female voices, fighting female voices. _Aha, fighting over mein radiating awesomeness I'm sure. _He was feeling a little better than before; he sat up, his trademark smirk securely in place. Where was he again? Right, Lith-…Lima-…that Baltic, the one close to Poland. Alright, so…generic Baltic it was.

"Ladiez, ladiez, there'sh n'need ta fight over th' aweshome me!"

Fuck, that was German, not Lithuag-…Livon-…Baltic. But come on, they were all Germans deep down, surely they understood. One of them talked, a blonde. Damn, she was short, and straight up and down, but not bad-looking…the other one was at least average height, a little on the skinny side. Her face swam in his view, and he squinted, trying to make out her features. Something about the way she carried herself, the shape of her face…

"Hey," She didn't notice immediately so he waved in her direction. "You…ya look famil'r. Have ya already had'n encounner with mein aweshome self?"

They both looked shocked. The skinny one was about to say something, but her friend was getting mad again, and…hey, what-

Pain flared briefly around his temple before he crumpled, slipping back into oblivion.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

The car was dark and stiffly silent. Rasa was generally quiet and standoffish, but the frustration radiating off of her was enough to discourage even me from trying to break the silence. I couldn't blame her, really. I'd run off, compromised my own safety, because I saw a man that I still wasn't particularly fond of obviously drunk and staggering in the general direction of my home. My old home, that is. The one that he would have the address for. Which brought me back to the original question: Why was he even here? It couldn't have been for any official reason, Ludwig handled most of that these days. And I couldn't imagine that he was just being social. We'd barely spoken since we went our separate ways after the Union split, and he spent most of his free time with Francis and Antonio.

Of course he'd had to stumble upon Vilnius' fledgling nightlife. Perhaps it wasn't as vibrant as the western scenes, but there was just as much raw alcohol flowing, and that was all Gilbert ever cared for.

A thick snore from the back seat reminded both of us of his presence, and Rasa's silence somehow managed to become stonier. For once her face was completely readable; I could guess pretty easily at what she was thinking. She was frustrated with me for running off, and with herself for not keeping up. She was frustrated with Gil for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was frustrated with the world for conspiring against her, and she was trying a little too hard not to snap. Her knuckles showed white around the rim of the steering wheel; for once her driving was perfectly calm, and that was almost scarier than her usual madness. The nation of Prussia slept peacefully on, the industrial orange of highway lights splashing across his face as we continued towards the edge of the city.

"_Who the hell is this? Do you know him?"_

"_Yes…It's Gilbert. It's Prussia."_

"…_Prussia. As in, the former country."_

_I nodded numbly. _

"_Another one…like you." _

_Another nod as I knelt next to him. My brain was starting up again, sluggishly. Blood lightly stained the pavement where he had fallen, but other than that he looked fine. If you didn't consider that he was passed out drunk. Of course, that was a normal state for him. _

"_A friend of yours?"_

_That was a difficult question, and one that my mind was incapable of considering at that point. Again, the thought flashed across my mind: _I can't just leave him here. _It wasn't that I held any warmth of feeling for him, and he could certainly take care of himself. But I couldn't pass him by. I was compelled to help him, by what Russia had affectionately referred to as my "sickness". _

_Rasa's curiosity had softened her tone, but only slightly. It was still pointed with tense energy and her ingrained sense of authority. "Viltė. We need to get back to the car, it's not safe in this part of town."_

"_We're bringing him."_

"_Absolutely not. Get up."_

"_No."_

"_I will knock you out and take you back to the car if you don't get up right now." She grabbed my wrist and pulled me up and a few steps away from Gilbert's crumpled form._

"_Go ahead. But then you'll have to carry both of us."_

"_We're not taking him!"_

"_Yes, we are!"_

"_Ladiez, ladiez, there'sh n'need ta fight over th' aweshome me!"Prussia's thick, slurred German cut the argument short. He was sitting up and smirking, obviously oblivious to the pain in his hands or the fact that he had been passed out on the sidewalk moments before._

_Rasa tugged at my wrist again insistently, impatiently. "See, he's fine, now let's go before-"_

"_Hey," He gestured lethargically towards me. "You…ya look famil'r. Have ya already had'n encounner with mein aweshome self?"_

_I pulled my wrist out of Rasa's grip and turned to address him. "Actually, we've never-" Rasa's fist crashed mercilessly into his temple and he crumpled again. _

"_Wh-what? What was that?"_

"_He knows you. If he wasn't so drunk, he would've recognized you. It's dangerous to take him with us, now let's _go-"

_I was already draping his limp right arm around my shoulders. "Stop arguing and give me a hand, please."_

And she had, but she hadn't been happy about it. I managed to convince her somewhat with an argument about how bad it would look for Lithuania if another nation's representative was found in such a state there. Might even cause an international incident. As obvious as it was that that excuse was complete crap, she managed to swallow it. But all the tense energy from before had changed into frustration and paranoia; she glanced in the rearview every few seconds and continued to, for the most part, disregard the existence of both of the national representatives in the car.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

The secretary tapped away noisily at her keyboard, her eyes riveted to whatever important document she was working on. The phone rang and she picked it up and answered in a smooth, practiced voice.

"Lithuanian state department offices, my name is Emilija, how can I help you?"

"U-um, hello…" The caller sounded young; his accent was distinctly Latvian. "M-may I speak to Toris Laurinaitis p-please?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"Raivis Galante…"

"Ah, Mr. Galante!" Her tone was just a bit too cheery. "I regret to inform you that Mr. Laurinaitis is not at work today."

"Oh…w-when will he be b-back?"

"I'm afraid I don't know sir, he's on personal health leave."

"Oh, alright…well, um…th-thank you anyways…"

"No problem!"

"_V-viso gero…_"

"_Geros dienos_!"

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

His head was _pounding_. Of course he'd have a hangover after an awesome evening like that, but this…was a little ridiculous. It wasn't even that bright, at least…not that he could tell with his eyes shut…

Where was he anyways? The last thing he clearly remembered was leaving the last bar and heading…somewhere… Hopefully Lithuania's house, since that's why he'd come. Right? Yeah, that was it, because West had unawesomely kicked him out again…what was it he'd said? Oh, right, "If I see another beer bottle on the floor that's it". And it certainly had been "it". _Bruder_ had fucking _exploded! _He would've chuckled if he'd thought it wouldn't be agonizing. Ludwig was such a killjoy sometimes…

Right, back to the point, where was he…if he had to guess, probably at Toris' place. Or the police station, but whatever it was he was lying on (a sofa maybe?) didn't feel hard or institutional. And the place didn't smell like a hospital, in fact it smelled like coffee…so probably Toris' place. He wasn't sure he'd actually made it on his feet, but maybe the kid had found him; he couldn't pass by stray dogs without helping them, not to mention people.

And _fuck_, his head hurt…He was pretty sure by now that that wasn't hangover pain. Maybe he'd been hurt somehow. Maybe he actually was at the police station, _Gott_ only knew…

Feeling slowly crept back into his limbs as he struggled out of his drunken slumber. Nothing felt broken or even recently healed, that was better than expected. Overall he actually felt ok, besides his head of course…

He cracked an eye open, cautiously. The room was quiet and dimly lit. A face hovered nearby, indistinct in the half-light. He decided it was safe enough and opened both eyes. The objects nearby slowly pulled into focus, but the face was still blurry. But…it sorta looked like…

"Toris…?"

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

Gil's voice was raspy, dried-out; I felt my whole body freeze up when I heard the name. _My_ name. From before…it shook me, gave my tired brain a jolt. It sounded…_foreign_, almost. It hadn't even been that long…But how…how did he recognize me? There was no way, he was hungover, barely awake…maybe even still asleep, dreaming? What would he be dreaming about that involved me…?

There were a few things that immediately came to mind, and I felt my cheeks heat up slightly. _No, he wouldn't…_

He rubbed his eyes and scanned the room, a little more alert than before. His eyes, bloodshot and bleary, landed on my face again. He was waiting for a reply, an explanation, anything. My breath was coming faster, too fast; _He knows, he knows _echoed in my head. I said the best thing I could think of at the time.

"Wh-who?"

The confusion apparent on his face deepened as his eyes pulled into focus. He was silent for a long moment, studying me; my heart beat against my ribs like a frantic bird.

"You're…not Toris…" His words hung somewhere between a statement and a question. He had switched languages as soon as he heard my reply, speaking rough Lithuanian, obviously out of practice. Of course he was…I was surprised he still knew any at all.

"I…don't know who…what…"

He grunted, acknowledging my apparent ignorance, and sat up slowly, groaning and nursing his bruised skull. I swallowed uneasily. Even in the state he was in, he'd almost managed to recognize me. I'd have to be careful…_very_ careful. I felt my stomach turning a little, nervous. I made an effort to relax my tensing muscles and calm my ingrained anxiety, but Gil certainly wasn't helping…

His eyes were trailing up and down my figure. He definitely wasn't just trying to recognize me anymore. I blushed slightly and felt the urge to cover up with something even more shapeless than my current t-shirt and jeans. Of course I'd seen him eyeing women before, but I'd never been on the receiving end of that look…and I suddenly felt a lot sorrier for them.

His eyes finally slid back up to mine, a crooked smirk appearing on his features. "So, dear…who're you?"

"Um…my name's Viltė, this is my…home. What…what's your name?" I sounded as self-conscious and uncomfortable as I felt. I prayed he might get the hint and look somewhere else, anywhere else…

"Gilbert Beilschmidt. The one, the only, the awesome." His smirk stretched into a grin. "And since we're both still clothed and it feels like someone decided to try and crack my skull open, I'm going to assume you didn't have the chance to experience that awesomeness firsthand."

"_What?_"

_Ugh_. He looked terrible – his clothes were dirty and disheveled, his pale hair limp and messy, the bruise near his temple fading to an ugly green – and he probably felt worse than he looked. Yet he was _still_ attempting to flirt…he really hadn't changed a bit. That was unfortunate.

Possibly more unfortunate was the fact that the _flirting itself _wasn't bothering me as much as his current state of general filth. And the way he was butchering my beautiful language with his accent and made-up words.

He laughed at my expression (hopefully of disgust, although I could feel a charming blush spreading across my cheeks), obviously feeling better already. "Don't worry, there will be other times. I'm going to be in town for a while. Now I'd really love it if you'd tell me how the hell I managed to end up here..."

"You passed out on the sidewalk." Rasa had slipped into the living room unnoticed at some point, and now she interrupted sharply, coffee mug in hand and tight scowl firmly set in place. "_One of us_ didn't want to leave you there." She shot me a pointed glance, but I held my ground and stared right back. I'd done the right thing. Sure he was an ass (a childish, selfish ass at that), and he had no restraint, and probably deserved to be left in the street even though he would never learn his lesson…

Well, it was the principal of the thing.

Gil's grin widened. "Ah-ha, so my awesomeness manages to reel in the fairer sex, even when I'm unconscious!"

"She most certainly was not 'reeled in'. She's nice, and you should be grateful." Her deadly glare was aimed right between Gil's eyes now; I could see him wilting slightly under her look. He could hold his own against men but as soon as a woman turned on him…

"Yeah, well, whatever. What time is it? I actually have somewhere I need to be-"

"Should've thought about that last night-"

"It's 6:00 in the morning," I interrupted quickly. The last thing I wanted was a fight this early, when none of us had slept well. It could get ugly or, knowing Rasa, violent.

"Ugh, way unawesome…I haven't had to wake up this early in years. I guess the buses probably aren't running yet…" He shifted his weight cautiously, seeing if his legs would hold. He stood slowly, popping as many joints as he could in the process, stretching his body out like a cat after a long nap in an uncomfortable position. There was strength in the way he moved, even after so many years. His crooked smirk reappeared although his garnet-colored eyes still looked exhausted as they peered into mine. "But I won't trouble you ladies any longer."

A scoff came from the other side of the room. "Good riddance."

Her caustic attitude did little to dampen Gil's recovered mood. His eyes continued to study my face; I could tell he was still mulling over my resemblance to…well, myself. My other self. Somehow, I felt like I couldn't call the person that I was a scant 72 hours ago "myself". I felt different-

"You remind me a lot of someone else I know." His tone had softened, if only slightly.

"Would that be…Toris?" My own name felt clumsy and strange on my tongue.

A rare smile appeared, briefly. "_Danke._" His hand found mine, lifted it to his dry lips, briefly, chastely. "_Tschüss_, Viltė."

In a confused daze I watched him go, an indignant Rasa hot on his heels. The door slammed.

"Christ, what an asshole. And you said you were friends with him? It's a good thing he never quite recognized you!" She shook her head. "I knew it was a bad idea to pick him up. And seriously, if you run off like that again..."

Her words were background noise; my eyes refused to leave the spot where he had been standing minutes before.

I blinked, shook my head.

…I needed some coffee.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

-4 missed calls-

-2 new voicemails-

-First message, 8:36 PM, 6/29/XX-

"Hello, it's Eduard again. I know two calls in one day is a bit unusual, but Raivis apparently called your office today and they told him you were on some kind of medical leave. He's frantic now and won't calm down, I'm afraid he might have a panic attack. He thinks you're hurt, although I've tried to explain to him that nothing's wrong…Anyways, if you could shoot me an email or a text, something I can show him to calm him down before he ends up in the hospital, that would be great. Thanks."

-Second message, 1:13 AM, 6/30/XX-

"Yo, Lithuania! I called as soon as I got off work, you know, the boss had me really loaded down today. Anyways, your bro called me up and said your government told him you were sick or hurt or something! That sucks, dude! You guys seem to get sick a lot over there, I think it's your food, you should eat more beef! It's good for your heart! Oh, this is Al by the way, if you couldn't tell. But of course you could, you know me, right dude? But hey, if you want me to visit or anything, I could bring some cake and ice cream and we could have an awesome hospital party and then you'd be good as new! Man, why aren't you picking up, I figured if I talked long enough you'd answer the freaking phone…oh wait, it's like…the middle of the night over there, right? That's right, cuz there's that big…ocean…the one with the "A" name! I remember, you told me that! And you're on the other side! Haha, nah, I'm kidding, I know what the Atlantic Ocean is! But seriously dude…I don't know what's going on but your bro sounded a little freaked out. Like _really _freaked out. You'd better call him up or something and tell him to chill. And you, whatever's going on, I'm sure you'll be fine soon, you're tough. But if you're having some kind of…_neighbor_ _trouble_ or anything, you tell me dude, and hero America will save the day! Take care, bro!"

-End of messages-

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

He took stock of his situation. He had walked most of the way to Toris' house, it hadn't been terribly far. But the place looked empty. He knew the Baltic was a freakishly early riser, and there were usually at least a few lights on…although, he hadn't been here in over a decade.

He rang the doorbell again. Again complete silence. Well, hell, he'd given the kid fair warning. Might as well give it a shot.

He felt carefully along the door frame. He didn't remember exactly where it was, but Toris was pretty short, so it had to be…There. A rough bump in the woodwork.

He worked the key out of its hidden slot as best he could with his non-existent fingernails. Finally he managed to pull it free; it had obviously been stuck there, unused, for a long time. The wood had warped around it, making it nearly impossible to get out…great, now his hand hurt too.

He switched the key to his other hand and jammed it into the lock. It turned smoothly (surprising), and the door swung in. The creak of the hinges echoed emptily into the upper floor. He could tell there was no one here, and there probably hadn't been for a few days at the least.

_Business trip? There was that…Baltic conference thing coming up, maybe he's at that?_ Even the smell of coffee was stale. On the table, a small red light indicated missed calls.

He pocketed the key and closed the door behind him. There was the Lithuanian's cell phone, sitting abandoned on the kitchen table. That would explain a lot…but where would he go without his cell phone?

All the doors were locked, there was no sign of a break in. There was milk in the fridge, only two days past the sell-by date; the coffeepot hadn't been washed since its last use. It was like everything had just stopped in the middle. Wherever he'd gone, he'd gone in a hurry…

Was it possible that something had happened to the eldest Baltic? Surely they would've heard something…unless his government was trying to keep it hush-hush, which was entirely possible. But they wouldn't be doing that if it was something major...They would've called a meeting or something, surely…

Best-case scenario, Toris was at some sort of urgent classified government meeting.

And worst-case…?

The pale man collapsed on the sofa, training his ruby gaze on the wall. The faintest traces of anxiety were stirring in his chest.

Nothing to do now but wait and see.

* * *

><p><strong>A bit on the short side. I apologize.<strong>

**Notes:  
><strong>**Viso gero - (Lat) Goodbye  
><strong>**Geros dienos - (Lith) Have a nice day  
>Tschüss - (Ger) Bye<strong>

**If any of you speak German/Latvian/Lithuanian, please, check me.**

**That's all for now! Hope you enjoyed it, and I'll try to be more prompt with the next chapter! **

**~Erisu**

**P.S. ****Ivi - Since you're an anon, I can't pm you to answer you (Get an account!). I fixed most of the things you pointed out. I'm always really really glad to have help, so thanks. :) Pizza just seems like such an American thing...coffee's always felt more European (ironic, since one would think it would be the other way around). The hot water...I don't know how it is there, but here each house has its own water heater, and a lot of the time smaller houses/apartments will have smaller heaters, so if two people take say, a 20-minute shower one after the other, the second one is likely to have cold water for at least part of the time (because it takes time to heat more). At my house, my shower will run cold if my parents are running the dishwasher at the same time. We have to coordinate. :P Thanks for your review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I seriously considered posting this on the 4th, but I seem to remember saying that it wouldn't be a month this time. ^^"**

**Anyways, happy early birthday for America! I honestly didn't plan this, it's just the way it worked out in the story. **

**Thank-yous this time for: Love-Me-Insanity, Kelina Dawn Hearan, 4nim3fr33k, and Story Writer-In Books I Trust. Thanks for your reviews~**

**Also thanks to What The Crapola Is This and MaliceArchangela for alerting.**

**Here's the next chapter. Longer, and hopefully much juicier. **

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 5**

A pile of paper vaguely resembling Mt. Everest, complete with late morning sunlight streaming dramatically around it, waited patiently on my desk. I knew I normally did a lot of work, but…

"…You're kidding me."

Rasa shrugged noncommittally. "That's just what they sent. Four or five boxes. I'm impressed, I didn't think you had so much paperwork to wade through on a daily basis."

_Ridiculous_. "I thought you said they were doing my work for the first few days!"

"They were." She smirked dryly. "This is everything they _couldn't_ do. As far as I know, most of it is just signing things…" She thumbed through the first few documents curiously, a mug of coffee and an unlit cigarette occupying her other hand.

Still. _Still_. This was going to take forever. At least it wasn't the full workload from the past three days…

Rasa set the coffee down quietly to the right of my paper Mont Blanc. "I figure you'll need it. There are a bunch of new pens in the drawer…I think it's enough, for today at least." She was already drifting towards the front door. "If we need more, just tell me."

The door opened briefly, permitting a summer breeze to stir the mountain's papery slopes; just as quickly, it closed, and the house fell into silence. The smell of cigarette smoke drifted through my window, opened just enough to let in the air and not the heat.

The sooner I started on this, the better. Besides, any distraction from the events of earlier that morning was welcome. I still had no idea why Gil had decided to show up in my capital unannounced; although, I guess he might've announced himself. I hadn't exactly been in a position to be in touch with anybody recently. Which was a bit worrying in and of itself. There was a regional conference relatively soon, and I had been in the middle of discussions with both Eduard and Raivis…my sudden disappearance may've worried them. At least it probably worried Raivis. Eduard tended to be more level-headed.

A gleam of light from my bed caught my attention. That's right; Rasa had left me her laptop, in case I needed it for my work. The sun glinted invitingly along the edge of the computer. Surely it wouldn't hurt just to check my email and make sure no one was too worried…

I abandoned my office chair and the lofty summit of paperwork and sat on the bed. Soon enough I had my personal email open. Spam, spam, spam, spam…Eduard. I read the email quickly. So Raivis was worried…And even though the tone of the message was mild and impersonal, I could tell that Eduard was, at the very least, curious and somewhat anxious about my disappearance. He knew I could take care of myself, and it's not like we were very close, but we had to look out for each other.

_Eduard,  
>I'm doing fine, I just haven't been feeling too well lately. I've probably been working a little too hard. Tell Raivis not to worry; I'll be there for the conference.<br>Toris_

I hesitated on the last few words; would I be at the conference? It was at the end of the summer, coming up fast. But there was no way my current living situation was going to last that long...I hoped. And if it did, well, I would cross that bridge when I came to it. I clicked the send button. Hopefully that would ease the worst of their worries. I closed the laptop and was greeted again by the sight of my miniature mountain range.

_Sigh_.

I really didn't want to do this. I'd been spoiled for the past few days. Well…not exactly spoiled, but it hadn't been paperwork. And it hadn't really been much better than paperwork…scratch that, it was worse. Much worse.

But had it really been that bad? Sure, at the time, it had seemed pretty terrible. Getting dragged out of my house without any warning, and then taken all over town by a woman I'd never met before who cut my hair and changed my eye color and forced me into bras and dresses and heels; and all of that with the feeling that I was being pursued by some invisible enemy who wanted nothing more than to do me harm. It had been stressful, certainly; and to tell the truth, it hadn't gotten that much better. Rasa was still brusque and aloof, I was still somewhat uneasy with my new self, and now on top of that…paperwork.

Yet now that everything had settled down some, I almost got the feeling that I could become _comfortable_ with this kind of life. At least I no longer imagined that there was a band of assassins breathing down my neck; the danger seemed hazy and sluggish, like a distant storm. A far distant storm, just a smudge on the horizon, so indistinct that you can neither feel the wind nor hear the thunder. The only thing to remind you that it's dangerous is an occasional flash of lightning and the words of those around you.

Although Rasa was generally rude and sarcastic, and rarely showed any blatant kindness, I felt safe staying here with her. She had shown that she was completely capable of protecting me, and wouldn't hesitate to do so. She tried to blow off any companionship as being just part of the job, and yet sometimes, it almost seemed like she was warming up to me. A gentle breath of wind drifted through my window and stirred the papers slightly. Comfortable. That was really the only word for it. Perhaps this wasn't my home, and Rasa wasn't necessarily my friend, yet I was comfortable.

_But…_ I shifted my gaze to the mirror. Warm brown stared back, slightly dazed-looking. There were shadows under those eyes, left over from a long and sleepless night. Short reddish-brown hair framed the face softly, femininely. A delicate neck, broad but graceful shoulders, the slight swell of the bust. This was me. And it wasn't me. It was a different me than the one I had lived with so long.

I closed my eyes. _This_ was me. This was Lithuania, dubbed Toris Laurinaitis so many years ago. He had been born roughly a millennium ago, an embodiment of the consciousness of the people who called themselves Lithuanians. When these people united, he grew and became stronger. When they separated, or were separated forcibly, he weakened. He met others like himself. They talked and learned about each other. Soon after, their fledgling governments began to argue, and they began to fight. Fighting took over their lives and as they sought an escape, they tried to love. A thousand years of suffering and happiness, love and war, genocide and torture had made him what he was. There was no escaping it. He was shaped by his history and his people; _he himself_ had no say in the matter.

_And yet…_ I opened my eyes and stared into the mirror. This consciousness was slowly becoming a part of who I was. This was Viltė, a young woman who lived in the outskirts of Vilnius with her roommate Rasa. She was stubborn and empathetic and a bit spacey. She was addicted to caffeine and enjoyed comfortable clothes and gardening and chatting with her friend.

But who was she, really? She was me, obviously…but she wasn't. She was human, she was young, unburdened by centuries of war and peace, love and hate, torture and genocide and Russification. Maybe…she was closer to what I could've been, what I _really_ was-

I shook my head violently, trying to clear my mind. I couldn't even remember how I'd managed to wander off on that tangent, but…

The rather daunting stack of paperwork pulled back into focus.

_Ugh…_

I collapsed back in the plush office chair and drank a long sip of coffee to fortify myself and chase the last vestiges of dreaminess out of my mind. _Time to get started._

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

A small pile of dishes now sat in the almost meticulously clean kitchen sink. Gilbert figured his MIA landlord wouldn't mind too much if he made himself at home, and after a quick visit to the bathroom, the first thing that had come to mind (besides the somewhat suspicious absence of the eldest Baltic) was food. The kid kept surprisingly little meat around, so the awesomely carnivorous Prussia had been forced to settle for eggs. Unfortunately, that meant actually _cooking_, which he hadn't done in…well…decades. Surprisingly, he managed to cook something edible and not burn the house down, and he decided he would reward himself for these two great successes by snooping around the kid's house. Sure, he would've done it anyways, but now he could do it with an easy conscience. After all, he'd earned the right to poke around a bit, after slaving so long over a hot stove.

The lower level seemed to be the most inhabited. There was the kitchen, the great room, a bathroom, a formal dining room that was gathering dust. There were also two guest bedrooms; it was obvious from the somewhat personalized décor in those rooms that they were used by the two younger Baltics. Nothing entirely unexpected in any of the rooms, although Gilbert discovered that, oddly enough, the neat-freak Lithuanian seemed to have a habit of leaving coffee mugs on most of the flat surfaces in the house.

The white-haired man returned to the living room, flipped through the books on the table, ran his fingers along the spines of those still on the bookshelf. Every subject imaginable. Not surprising, the kid had always had an interest in learning things. He reached the foot of the stairs and looked up. It was darker on the top floor, although he could see light coming from somewhere… Intrigued, he started up the stairs.

They were old but solid, and none of them squeaked under the intruding nation's weight. The air at the top seemed stale and heavy, as if the windows hadn't been opened in a long time. Right at the top of the stairs was Toris' bedroom; the door was slightly ajar, and light spilled out around it. If the Baltic had left some explanation for his disappearance, and it hadn't been downstairs, it would probably be in there somewhere.

Gil pushed the door open and looked around. There was nothing obviously out of place…the room was clean, although not as neat as the lower level had been. The bed was made, and there was nothing on the dresser or nightstand other than empty mugs. He checked the drawers; if there was any clothing missing, it wasn't enough to be noticeable. Wherever Toris had gone, he obviously wasn't expecting to be gone for long.

_Or he could've been taken…_

The Prussian cast another glance around the room before stepping back out into the hallway. He peered into the darkness; there were three more rooms to check. He pushed open the first door: another bathroom. Further on was guest room #3, spotlessly clean like the rest of the house, but obviously seldom-used.

The third door was locked, not that this presented much of an obstacle for the amazingly skilled and awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt. Even if he _hadn't_ known exactly where Toris kept the keys for those sorts of things (on top of the doorframe), he would've been able to pick the lock in no time at all. Definitely. No question about it. But he knew where the key was, so he decided he'd save himself the trouble. The key slid in roughly and didn't want to turn, but after a bit of struggling the lock gave and the door swung in ever so slightly.

Gil pushed it the rest of the way open and its hinges protested noisily. The room was dark, and dusty…he wasn't sure what it was intended to be, but it seemed like it was currently doing time as a storage room. Boxes of various shapes and sizes were stacked up to head height on either side. Well, if nothing else, this merited a bit of additional exploration. He wandered down the narrow aisle left open between the boxes. The further back he went, the older they seemed to get. Some were labeled, but only with dates. _1989-93, 1938-44, 1907-14, 1871-…_ He kept walking. Eventually the cardboard boxes became wooden crates, some showing their age more than others. Out of curiosity, Gil opened a few of them. There were firearms, uniforms, newspapers highlighting important events… The kid was keeping his entire history in this storage room.

As he went farther back, the clothing became more archaic, the guns turned to swords, battered shields, bows; amazingly, most were still in usable condition. Here a piece of chain mail, there an artistically jeweled cross…Some of it he even recognized. A ragged Grand Duchy flag; a sword that his Lithuanian adversary had favored for several decades, the hilt simply designed but beautiful; and that shield, he remembered bashing it in like that, leaving that big dent in the front. _Why the hell is he holding onto all this stuff?_ Gil himself wasn't entirely sure what had happened to the things he'd had back in those days…he assumed that most of them had been destroyed. _There's no need to hold onto all his history like this…must be pretty damn depressing. _Toris had always been pretty secretive about his history; he wasn't fond of sharing, for some reason. But Gil hadn't known that the kid kept all of this stuff, although that could explain a lot. _Could it be that he's never really let go of a lot of this shit…? But it's so far in the past!_

Sure it was far in the past, and the Prussian knew he was being a bit of a hypocrite when he criticized Toris for not moving on. None of them had. Their histories were what made them who they were; their experiences over the centuries had warped them irreparably into their present states. This sort of thing was so deeply ingrained in all of them that the only way to even dream of moving past it would be to just start all over again. But they were nations, trapped in a maze of obligations, treaties and bureaucracy; such options weren't available to them.

He paused by an ancient sword, tarnished and dull; despite the wear, Gilbert recognized it easily. That sword had taken his life for the first time. The sight of the sword sharpened the recollection; he remembered it well, for such an ancient event…

_The pain was unbelievable, spreading like fire from the wound to the rest of his body. He could feel it all the way to his toes; he couldn't breathe. The sword had gone straight through, just beneath his right shoulder. There was blood everywhere, he could feel it rising in his throat. He was choking, he couldn't breathe. He coughed and felt the crimson liquid leave his throat. Still, his breath came in short agonized gasps, his head felt hot and light and his thoughts were jumbled and incoherent. His eyes struggled to focus; the other boy was a little younger than him, but taller and stronger; his armor was splattered with the same dull crimson as his sword. His eyes were dazed and empty, a flat lifeless green. The blood-soaked sword clattered to the ground and the boy followed it, falling to his knees beside his fellow nation. _

"_Gilbert, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you, I wasn't paying attention…"_

_The pale boy coughed again; more blood sprayed across the dirt. "What're you-" Cough. "-Talking about? You've killed hundreds of my people, why am I-" Cough. "Why am I any different…?"_

"_I know you…they're just faces, but I know you. We played together sometimes, before our bosses…" Here the taller boy stopped briefly. "…I'm sorry."_

"_What're you talking about, stupid? I'm-" He coughed again, agonizingly. "I'm your enemy…I started this fight. I've started all our fights! Why're you sorry?"_

"_Because you're tangled up in this. We both are...your boss started this fight, not you. And now, because of them…" _

_The pale boy's eyes slid shut. It was too exhausting trying to keep them open. He was dying, he could feel it; the strength was slowly but steadily leaving him. His head was miles above the ground, the pain was distant and dull. He welcomed the emptiness as it swept over him._

"_I'm so sorry…"_

Gil abruptly closed the lid on the box holding the sword and scowled. Even then, that damn Baltic was too nice for his own good. Sickening. He was reminded briefly of the girl from that morning, Vil…whatever her name was. Picking up complete strangers off the street. That was the _definition_ of "too nice". He left the room and locked the door carefully behind him, sliding the key back into place before heading downstairs. He could've been anyone and she would've just picked him up! And just because the blonde girl looked tough doesn't mean that she could've protected her naïve little friend from him. That girl…she'd even sorta _looked_ like Toris. But crossdressing was more Poland's thing, the Lithuanian generally showed indifference or flat-out dislike for that particular habit. Besides, she'd been _cute_. There was no way in hell Toris would make such a cute girl. Besides, surely he'd leave a note or something saying he was running away and going to the other side…

Maybe that girl was just ridiculously desperate or something. She sees a hot guy on the sidewalk, picks him up, hopes for the best… He shook his head. _Weird._ At any rate, there were no clues in the house…that meant the only thing left to do was contact the government. Because that would _definitely_ yield results.

He sighed. This was so unawesome, how he was having to hunt all over the place to find that kid. _Damn Toris…just where in the hell did you scurry off to?_

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

The days passed and I found myself falling into an easy rhythm. Most days, by the time the sunlight slanted through the blinds at just the right angle to wake me up, Rasa was already on her second cup of coffee and mostly done with breakfast. She continued to do the majority of the housework and as time passed, I found that I minded less and less. She was dead set on doing chores, and it would be a waste of energy to keep trying to dissuade her. I ate, showered, got dressed, and then started on the daily load of paperwork.

Rasa would often sit in the chair in my room while I worked. I discovered that while she was certainly most comfortable with silence, her curiosity about my life always managed to draw her into conversation. After she broke the icy silence with her daily question, I could usually manage to drag a precious bit of personal information out of her as well. Her initial answers were short and to the point, but if left in silence long enough, she would often pursue the subject until she felt she'd said too much and abruptly shut herself away again.

She had grown up in the outskirts of Vilnius. Her parents were both former party members that had joined the resistance in the 80's and 90's. After we gained independence they slipped quietly back into their normal, non-politically active lives and hadn't done anything significantly different since. She said very little about her childhood except that it was "unremarkable". She'd dropped out of college to join the service ("I decided in school that a desk job wasn't what I wanted. Really, can you imagine me in a cubicle?"). She started smoking after that, "for my nerves, and to keep my hands steady". She knew it was bad for her, and strictly limited herself to a pack every two weeks. Anytime I tried to ask her anything more personal than that, she'd get more awkward. She was uncomfortable talking about herself, and there were several topics that she stonily ignored. Curtly, she stated that her favorite color was dark blue, her favorite food was cheese pierogi, and her birthday was April 30. ("A Taurus. That explains a lot, doesn't it.")

Her stiffness made me feel a little sorry for her, even though I was excited that she was even talking to me. In return I told her whatever she wanted to know about my own life (within reason). And there were plenty of questions. How old was I biologically? How would a nation age anyways? Did I remember my childhood? Did I ever really talk to normal people? Befriend them? I answered her as flatly as I could, because I could tell she didn't want my emotional input. She judged the information as it came before her and made her own decisions. I could see things falling into place behind her eyes as she solidified her stance towards me, nations, everything that she had so recently learned.

"…I feel bad for you."

I looked at her in surprise, pausing with my coffee cup halfway to my mouth. She was sprawled nonchalantly in the chair on the other side of the room, staring at the ceiling. She'd voiced a straightforward emotional opinion. No reading between the lines, no implications, just…"I feel bad for you".

It had been a week since I had been so unceremoniously dragged from my living room, and she'd never voiced such an earnest emotion. Even if it was in her usual hard, offhand tone, it was a serious emotion. I shook off my amazement and took a sip of richly flavored life-giving caffeine before answering, trying to match her breeziness. "Really?"

"Yeah. Having your whole life at any one moment defined by whoever your government is friends with at the time."

I sized up today's stack of paperwork. _Sigh_. "It's really not as bad as it sounds."

"It seems pretty shitty. No offense."

"None taken." I pulled down the first sheet, signed it with a flourish. "They can say whatever they want, it doesn't really change who I talk to."

"It seems like it would." She was still addressing the ceiling.

"Not really. Unless that nation did something to me personally, or my people…we try to stay out of the minor diplomatic squabbles. Humans have arguments too, don't they? That's what most of these issues are for us. We just don't talk for a while, and things get better."

"And when they don't get better?" She actually looked over at me; I could feel her slate-colored gaze on the side of my face.

"We go to war."

She took a while to mull that over in silence. The only sound was the slight scratching of my pen and the hush of paper as I flipped over completed documents.

"That seems restrictive and cruel."

"Our people fight in the wars too. You keep trying to treat us like we're separate and we're not. Our worlds aren't so different."

"They sure seem pretty damn different-" She was muttering darkly, trying to cling to her neat division and classification of people and nations.

"Besides," I cut her off mid-grumble, pushing a stack of documents to the other corner of the desk. "That isn't what really makes us different from you. Both of us answer to the same government. You're overthinking it. It's something much more fundamental than that."

She looked at me, the stony look in her eyes softened by confusion and thought. I met her gaze and smiled encouragingly. "Think about it. It'll come to you."

Mutually, agreeably, we lapsed into silence.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

It had been 4 days, and Gilbert Beilschmidt had made himself happily at home in Lithuania's vacant abode. Sure there wasn't a whole lot of meat around, and he'd had to convert his currency to eat out (he could've sworn that all the Baltics had switched to the Euro…maybe it was just the geeky one), but he spoke enough Lithuanian to get by and the alcohol was cheap, so he was relatively content. He had the house to himself, no nagging _Bruder_ around…

Of course that was an issue in itself: the MIA status of the house's usual inhabitant. The government was being cagey about just where Toris was taking his "personal health leave" (yeah right, the kid was a workaholic, he never vacationed), and how long it was going to last. Which at least meant that they were aware of whatever odd shit was going on. That ruled out the _worst_ of the possible scenarios…or at least made them highly unlikely. It was still possible that something bad _had_ happened and the government was just trying to keep it quiet until they figured out how to deal with it. But come on, what use would most people have for a nation? It wasn't like they served any real _purpose_ other than cheerleaders and, to some extent, diplomats. At least, not anymore. They'd been demoted to bureaucrats, slaving away in their cubicles.

The pale man wrinkled his nose in disgust, digging around in the fridge for that last bottle of beer that he could've sworn was in there. That was the one thing West was good for; he took care of all of the government's paperwork while his brother got to sit back on the sofa and drink beer and laugh. Despite the widely-heald belief that he no longer existed, in his own mind, Gilbert was still the highest authority in the land, one of the most powerful beings on the face of the earth, and ridiculously awesome to boot. He'd never been worn down by the drudgery of a bureaucratic democracy.

At any rate, the nations had very little purpose these days. There was only one thing he could think of-

He opened the beer and took a long sip.

No, there was no way. The average Joe on the street wouldn't know anything about that. And even if he did, generally average Joe wasn't a batshit crazy anarchist, and that's what you'd have to be to want to take advantage of such a thing. So it wasn't quite time to be worried yet, right? After all, other than that, there's no reason anyone would want to kidnap or harm a nation, it was just pointless.

So…right. It wasn't time to be worried yet. Not that he'd be worried anyways. For fuck's sake, he was _Prussia_, he was made of pure awesome forged in the fires of the _sun_. He was way too perfect to be worrying about something so trifling. It wasn't like he was even that close to the Baltic. Sure they'd sorta grown up together, and they'd sorta shared a room during the Union years (too many nations, too small a house; two to each of the equally tiny, equally bland, equally drafty and generally shitty rooms). And Toris had sorta stitched him up whenever Ivan saw fit to beat the living shit out of him. But Toris did that for everyone. He'd even stitched himself up a couple times. He was just too damn nice. He'd never been that nice when he was an empire. Sure, he'd never been bloodthirsty or sadistic, but he'd actually had a _backbone._ Russia had ruined him, probably beyond repair. Of course, Poland had gotten to him even before that. By the time they were roommates in the Union, Gilbert found himself wanting to punch the younger man as much as he wanted to thank him. _Infuriating_. It was just infuriating and unawesome and _disgusting_ how he'd refused to stand up for himself, even a little! Then again after long enough, pain could do almost anything to a person.

And he wasn't even sure why he was thinking about all that dark, unawesome shit. It was all in the past. Ancient history. Obviously, he just needed more beer. Somehow, the once-full bottle had emptied quicker than expected.

And just as he was reaching for the new case, the phone rang.

…..

He shrugged. What the hell, might as well answer it. Best case, it was the kid himself, calling because he'd heard that the Prussian had invaded his home and he wanted to make sure it was still in one piece. He lifted the phone off the hook. Worst case…

"YO DUDE, HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY~~~!"

…Yeah, this was pretty much the worst case. Gil's hand jerked the phone away instinctively to protect his sensitive ears from the cacophony blasting through the speaker. Fireworks, a screaming crowd, and America. It was a good thing his reflexes were still sharp, otherwise he'd be deaf. The fuck, it had to be like 3 in the morning over there…

"America! What the hell do you want?" Ah, English. Like German, but it made less sense.

"HUH? DUDE, I LIKE CAN'T HEAR YOU AT ALL! YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO SPEAK UP, I'M AT A REALLY GREAT FOURTH OF JULY PARTY! HEY, IF YOU'RE BETTER YOU SHOULD FLY OVER, YOU CAN PROBABLY MAKE IT IN TIME FOR TONIGHT'S FIREWORKS!"

"YOU'RE SHOOTING OFF FIREWORKS TONIGHT TOO?"

"OF COURSE WE ARE-…HEY, WAIT, YOU'RE PRUSSIA! DUDE, WHERE'S LITHUANIA? DID I DIAL THE WRONG NUMBER AGAIN?"

"GO SOMEWHERE QUIETER OR I SWEAR TO GOTT I WILL HANG UP ON YOU RIGHT FUCKING NOW."

"ALRIGHT, alright…" His voice gradually reached a normal volume (for him) and the crowd noise died down.

"_Danke_, _arschloch_!" Ugh, his awesome throat was raw from all that shouting. He really needed that next beer. And like hell was he going to _set the phone down _while he got it. He held the device between his shoulder and cheek and started towards the case…the cord might not be long enough…but if anyone could do it, it was awesome Prussia.

"Woah, dude, you're not allowed to talk like that on America Day! Speak American, not Nazi!" The blonde laughed obnoxiously.

"I'll speak whatever the hell I want to! And I had no say in that!" Just a little bit closer…the cord was straining. He shrugged his shoulder up tighter until the plastic of the phone was digging into his cheek.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So I went somewhere quieter, where's Tor? And since when are you two staying together? I thought you two were on like different sides of Europe!"

"_Nein_, dumb fuck. We used to be neighbors. We have Poland between us and…you know what, this is hopeless. It is beneath my awesome self to try to teach you geography." His fingers were just barely brushing the cardboard case…the cord wouldn't stretch any farther. "Lithuania's not here, still on 'vacation'."

"What? I thought he was in the hospital or something! Man, I had this great idea for a hospital party! And then when I called and it picked up I was all excited cuz I thought he was back and if he was back he could come to my Fourth of July bash! He always does!"

"_Amerika_, no one cares about the Fourth of July except you and England! Besides, the awesome me throws _way_ better-"

The second Prussia managed to get a firm hold of the case of beer, the phone decided it was going to rebel. It slipped free and shot back at least 3 meters across the kitchen floor. The resulting noise and Prussia's stream of colorful and creative language was enough to make even America wince slightly.

And then, silence. A slight hiss, like a can of soda being opened.

Moments later, ill-humored German grumbling that steadily grew closer to the speaker.

"…Dude, you okay?"

"Awesome. Just peachy. I got my beer and that's all that matters." Silence while he drank it down. "Ah…Anyways, the kid's not here, and no one's coming to your stupid unawesome party, so you can just hang up now and let me get drunk in peace."

"Hey…" The American's tone was unusually sober. "You don't think anything…bad happened, do you?"

Well. This was interesting. America, actually thinking about someone else's wellbeing. "Uh…no, I don't think so. I mean, it's only been a week. Maybe his government actually did force him to take a vacation, he works way too much. I know our boss once forced West to-"

"Prussia…"

The albino stopped when he heard his name and stared at the opposite wall silently. The only sound was the crackle of white noise over the speaker.

"…I know what you're thinking, Al. It doesn't seem like it, but he's tough. He can take care of himself."

On the other side of the Atlantic, the blonde smiled softly. The smile grew into a grin, which burst forth into sharp laughter. "Of course he can, I totally knew that! But, hey bro, just…keep an eye out alright?" His tone became cautious again, trailing off into something that could almost be genuine concern.

Gilbert drained the rest of his beer, scoffed. "_Ja, ja_, whatever. I see that you absolutely need _mein_ awesome self for this, so I suppose I'll help."

"Great! Well dude, it's been fun chatting, but I've got a party to attend! Later, bro!"

_Click._

Silence reigned in the kitchen once more. Late morning sunlight slanted through the blinds and made patterns on the floor. The phone was set gently back in the cradle, the now-empty beer bottle in the sink. He leaned on his elbows on the counter; his ruby eyes sightlessly followed the dancing light as he tried to calm the cold clenching in his chest.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the shortness of the last one.<strong>

**The plot is starting now! Yes, there actually is one!**

**Notes:**

**None this time! :)**

**That's all for now! For all you Americans, happy Fourth! For everyone else, have a great Wednesday!**

**~Erisu**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hooray, I'm back! Yes, I realize this was more than a month. More like 2 months. In my defense, my job switched to full time, I went on two college trips, wrote 3 essays for the common app, set up an independent study, and then school started back.  
>On the other hand, I'm just lazy.<br>Anyways, I have lots of wonderful people to thank, yet again. For reviews, Chi-Chan11, Love-Me-Insanity, Fanime-Sensei Strikes Back, and 4nim3fr33k. For faves/alerts, we have Warrior of Horus, Chi-Chan11, owlcity90, orangefigure, and Wings-of-Icarus. I would love to hear from all of you~ ^^ Thanks to everyone for their continued interest in my humble story. orz  
>Also, my story has a cover now! My lovely beta, Chibifox, who is more right-brained and talented than I will ever be, made me one so my story would stop looking like my profile. I also updated the summary and changed a few other things. Basically this story got a facelift.<br>Woo, long intro. Short chapter. More plot. enjoy.**

**Chapter 6**

"I hate shopping."

I sighed. This had to be the twentieth time Rasa had said that since we'd come in the building, the same mall where we'd purchased most of my current clothing. "I heard you the last 19 times. You seemed pretty excited about it when we were here two weeks ago…"

She crossed her arms and shot hard, slate-colored glares at the passerby from her perch on the arm of a bench. Most passed safely around the edges of her hostile gaze, leaving us in a ragged semicircle of open space. "Yeah, but I was doing my _job_ then. This is just…completely unnecessary."

"No it isn't," I said smoothly, trying to soothe her paranoia. "I was getting tired of wearing the same four t-shirts." The edgy look she gave me flatly stated that she wasn't buying it. And I didn't blame her; I never left the house, and I had said several times over that I didn't care about my appearance whatsoever.

But therein lay the problem. _I never left the house_. And as nice as it was, I liked to just be around my people from time to time. Unfortunately this was something my introverted partner couldn't understand. I sighed again. Yes, I realized it was her job to keep people away from me, but…"Rasa."

"What?" Tense and cold.

"You're scaring my people. And…this is a little bit obvious."

She glared for a few moments longer. Finally she sighed shortly and shifted her unease into her hands, picking at the hem of her shirt and fiddling with the pack of cigarettes in her pocket. People began to slowly edge back into the disaster zone. "I hate shopping. I hate crowds…have you rested long enough?"

"For now. I think some lunch is in order…" I stood up, a solitary bag of clothes hanging from my hand.

"Bathroom first."

I looked at her. "Really? You didn't go before we came here?"

"I did, but I've had two cups of coffee since then." She had yet to uncross her arms, and a defensive stubbornness had leaked into her tone.

I held up my hands, warding off her assertions. "Alright, alright, there's sure to be a bathroom down by the food court. I can probably have food by the time you're done..." I was already heading towards the smell of food and coffee; my stomach growled demandingly. _Just a little while longer…_

"I'd rather have you nearby." That was her you-don't-argue-with-me-because-I'm-your-bodyguard tone. She was matching me step for step, with natural military precision. I guess I had developed a tendency to let myself forget a bit what my situation really was…it was surprisingly easy to let my guard down after a while. Especially when whoever was after us didn't seem to be trying very hard.

"In the stall? Or will your paranoia let me hover just outside?" I smiled slightly, easily one of the most painless smiles I'd worn in decades. I realized that it felt wonderful; I didn't get to joke around with people much. The world meetings generally dissolved into violent chaos before anyone could do much socializing. Besides, something or another strained my relations with…just about everybody.

She knew better than to rise to a taunt like that; still, her scowl deepened slightly. "You can wait outside if you want, but I don't want you wandering around the food court by yourself."

"As you wish, your majesty," I said, humbly lowering my head and earning myself a slightly-rougher-than-necessary whack on the shoulder.

It really did feel good to have a friend.

** 0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

He wasn't entirely sure where he was going.

Of course, that was obviously a lie. The awesome Prussia always knew where he was going; just one more reason he was the most awesome nation in the world. He had a pretty good idea of his destination, he was just a little bit turned around at the moment. Yeah, that was it. He wasn't totally familiar with the layout of the streets yet, but he definitely knew where he was heading. And give him a few seconds more and he'd know which road to take…

He had figured he'd make a (somewhat haphazard) circuit of the city, maybe duck in a shop or two. And of course, a bar or two as well. He was just doing his duty: keeping an eye out for little Lithuania, making sure Vilnius wasn't dissolving into chaos, and downing a few shots of vodka while he was at it. All in a day's work.

The mall on the other side of the intersection certainly looked promising, buzzing with people; for some reason, it struck the Prussian as just the sort of place to check for the missing nation. The scent of food drifting from the entrance was also certainly a factor in his decision to go inside...he just really hadn't been feeling breakfast that morning, settling for most of a bottle of beer. But now he felt like his stomach was painfully sucked back up against his spine. The walk sign flashed green and he walked briskly across the street, pausing only briefly to cast a nonchalant wink and smirk towards a group of young women chatting nearby. One sent a smile in return, but he was already rushing towards the promise of sustenance. _Of course I need the food. But really I'm looking for Toris. Yeah, definitely._ His stomach noisily agreed.

The food court was large and sunlit, and awesomely enough, just inside the nearest entrance. Good thing, too; he wasn't sure how much farther he could make it in his current state. He'd even passed up flirting to get here a little quicker. Sure everything was fast food and coffee, but as hungry as he was, he hardly cared.

A spot of reddish brown against the far wall near the restrooms caught his eye for some reason; he gave it a closer look, and there she was. Viltė.

Her name rushed unaided to the front of his mind. Odd. He hadn't even thought about her since he'd woken up in her living room a week and a half ago. Well, so that was a lie. She was pretty cute. And something about her bothered him. Well, maybe bothered wasn't the best word for it, but something was off. The awesome Prussia rarely remembered a woman that was just a pretty face. His gut was trying to tell him something (other than the fact that it was close to digesting itself); he wasn't sure whether it was good or bad, but it certainly promised to be interesting. And in the end, "interesting" was all that mattered.

So, guided by his awesome intuition, the albino nation made his way towards the back wall, blood-tinted eyes focused solely on his target. Her expression was distant, her hazel eyes trained on something that he wouldn't be able to see even if he tried. The closed-off, spacey look was familiar, the same sort of face Toris would wear in quieter moments when he thought he was alone.

She came back quickly to herself as she noticed him approaching. Her expression cycled through surprise and brief panic before finally settling on guarded wariness, an uneasy smile on her face. Prussia felt a crooked smirk spread across his features in return. "Hey beautiful."

A flash of pink flared up under her light skin. "Do I know you?"

He laughed shortly, easily, trying to counteract the tension coming off of her. "Ouch. Have you forgotten my awesome self already? And here I thought you might welcome another chat with the king of awesome."

She cast a quick glance back towards the restrooms before answering. "That's quite an ego you've got." There was a hint of nervousness in her tone, watering down her words.

"Ego? I'm just telling the truth." Her fingers worked at the hem of her blouse. He edged closer; she held her ground. "You waiting on someone?"

She hesitated before nodding.

"Going to get some lunch after this?"

Another nod.

He smirked. "Is the awesome me allowed to join the party?"

"What do you want?"

She was definitely anxious about something, and trying to get rid of him. He added an extra layer of his super-awesome Prussian blend of charm to his voice. "Well since it seems like my extreme awesomeness is overwhelming you face to face, would an email address be too much to ask?"

"…" She cast another glance towards the restrooms. "...Give me a pen and I'll write it down for you."

She scribbled the address quickly on a scrap of paper and handed it to him along with his pen. Her handwriting was nondescript, plain with only a few feminine-looking twists scattered among the letters. He pocketed the scrap and his smirk stretched into a grin. "Thanks. Expect plenty of amazing messages from my awesome self."

The smallest hint of a true smile tugged at her lips, although her voice was still tense. "I will."

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

"Viltė? What're you looking at?"

I jumped, adrenaline still rushing through me. I had been watching Gilbert's pale hair disappear into the crowd. For some reason, I had felt like it would be a bad idea for him to still be around when Rasa came back…somehow, I had managed to get rid of him with a seldom-used email address. "N-nothing…I was just-"

"Completely spacing out? Obviously." Her stony eyes swept over me briefly. "Your hands are shaking and you're a little flushed…do you feel alright? Did something happen while I was gone?" Her hand was cool and damp as it came up to rest on my forehead.

_Yes, Prussia was here._ I hadn't even known he was still here. Where was he staying? Why was he hanging around like this? _Could it be that he's the one that's after me…?_ I resisted the urge to physically shake the rising paranoia from my mind. That was ridiculous. Prussia had no government of his own anymore, and as far as I knew, no personal grudges from the past century or two. He resented doing Germany's grunt work, so it was doubtful that he was here as a spy; besides, Germany would have no reason to spy, as I had nothing to offer. It was highly unlikely that this threat was coming from a nation at all, and even more unlikely that it was coming from Prussia.

"Viltė?"

All the tension and nervousness from the first few days of my undercover life violently resurged. My stomach abandoned all notion of appetite, instead turning over nauseatingly. Great. Of all places for him to be a problem, Gil had to be _here_, at the worst possible time, with the conference coming up and these people after me…I should probably tell Rasa that he was here. Even if it was nothing, she should know about it.

"Viltė!"

My eyes refocused on my insistent companion. I took a deep breath. "S-sorry, I was just…thinking." Dammit, I'd stuttered. I had been getting better about that since I'd assumed my cover; it was easy to let my nervousness go as I slipped more into my new role. I blamed my unsteadiness on the adrenaline crash. The look Rasa gave me demanded further explanation.

"I…I saw…" It was harder to say than I thought it would be. Why? Something in me was insisting that my brief exchange with the former nation was something better kept to myself; something that my bodyguard might try to prevent in the future. This only confused my rational mind more…she hadn't really stopped me from doing much of anything before. And even if she did stop me from seeing him, was that really such a bad thing? There was no logical _reason_ to keep it secret, so…

"You saw…who?" Rasa's tone had become quieter, clipped and more efficient as her stormy eyes quickly scanned the crowd in our vicinity. "Someone suspicious? Did they have a weapon?"

"I…_thought_ I saw…Prussia again." There. It was out. Maybe it wasn't the exact truth, but it was close enough…right?

Instantly her whole body relaxed a little. I hadn't realized it, as caught up in my thoughts as I was, but she had become fairly intimidating in the last few seconds. "Prussia. The jackass you brought back after he got completely smashed in town."

"…Yeah, him."

"And you thought you saw him? You aren't sure?"

"Um…no, I'm sure it was him, I saw his face."

"You didn't talk to him, did you? Did he try to talk to you?"

"No, no…I just thought I should tell you." Wouldn't it be easier to just tell the truth? Although I supposed it was a little late for that…

She almost didn't seem to buy it. Her voice held a note of suspicion in it when she spoke again. "Well…if you see him again, just tell me and make sure you stay out of his way. Don't talk to him, don't make eye contact, and if he tries to follow us, don't panic: I can get us away." Translation: _I'm not sure exactly what you did, but don't do it again._

I was silent for a moment, before answering quietly, below the buzz of the crowd. "…You're worried he'll see through my cover?"

Her voice was equally quiet when she responded. "You said you've known each other since you were children. I'm certain that, given time, he will."

_I'm not so sure of that_. Sure, Gil had a keener intuition than most. In fact it was almost always spot on, and he knew it. But he certainly hadn't acted like he had any idea who I was… "Would it really be so bad for him to know?"

Rasa studied me critically for a long moment, her eyes showing nothing, before shrugging. "We're safest if we can keep this as quiet as possible. Your pale friend could betray us without meaning to, simply because he isn't careful. And that would make both of our lives significantly more difficult. I'm sure Madame President would appreciate it greatly if that didn't happen."

"Of course...I'll be more careful from now on." I had easily read the implication in her words: she was sure now that something had happened, and was gently nudging my priorities back into their correct positions. And she was right, of course. I had a duty to my boss, and to my people, to keep myself safe. And that meant listening to Rasa. She knew better than me. I had slipped up this time, but from now on I would do better. I remembered the email address I had given Gil. Of course I had no intention of checking it, but this was another opportunity to come clean, and just tell Rasa what had happened. There was no reason to keep it secret. I opened my mouth to speak again:

"But for right now…I'm starving." Well. That hadn't been what I'd meant to say.

The storm quieted in Rasa's eyes as a slight smile made its way onto her face. The tension had almost completely melted out of her compact frame. "I'm sure you are. Sorry for taking so long with this…you gave me a bit of a scare."

"No, it's fine, you're just doing your job." A small smile crept onto my face as well, and it felt sugary and dishonest. I still hadn't told the truth. _She'll keep me from talking to Gil_. Something in me thought this was bad, that for some reason, this should be kept secret.

And that was that. In that one white lie was where it all started.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

The electronic pinging of Gil's smartphone nearly made him drop his beer. Luckily, his general aura of awesomeness prevented such a catastrophe. He set the bottle down carefully on Toris' scuffed coffee table (he even used a coaster; he was such a considerate guest), and pulled the phone out of his pocket. He'd gotten an email; it took him a second to remember how to open the program on his fancy phone. He'd never been one for crazy gadgets, but he'd thought that being able to check his email anywhere was pretty awesome, so he'd accepted West's offer of a smartphone.

Once he managed to locate the email button and successfully open the program, his eyes were instantly drawn to the email address. A smirk crept onto his features. She'd replied. It was even a somewhat playful reply, offering the tantalizing possibility of friendship. He might even be banished from Germany long enough to reap the benefits of said companionship.

The email read:

_After all that, I figured my inbox would be exploding with your "amazing messages"._

His smirk widened. Game on.

_If you hadn't replied so quickly, it might've been! ;D_

Send.

Moments later, another ping.

_Well, I guess it's a good thing I decided to reply then. But I am curious why you decided you wanted to email me._

His pale fingers flew across the touchscreen, and he thanked God for autocorrect, which kept his grammar and spelling mostly straight.

_Kesesese, why? Nobody other than unawesome policemen have picked me up when I'm drunk like that. You don't know me, but you took my awesome self in (why most people don't is beyond me, I'm wonderfully awesome after all). You're interesting and I want to get to know you better, that's why I'm emailing you! ;D_

A few minutes passed in silence. Gil finished his beer and tapped impatiently on the arm of the sofa, anxious for the Lithuanian's reply. As soon as the tone sounded, his fingers were flying across the screen again.

_Why should I tell you anything about myself? All I know is your name, and honestly, you didn't make the best first impression._

She had a point. Well, he was up first then.

_Fine, the awesome me will start! I'm a 23 year old Prussian made of pure compressed awesomeness with a dash of irresistible sexiness added in. ;D Now tell me something about yourself!_

After an hour or two, it was established that his companion was 22 years old (older than he'd thought), and loved coffee, gardening, and reading. She claimed to be just out of school and looking for a job, living with her college roommate until they both found work.

He told her his usual story: he was staying with his awesome friend in country X for a while to learn the language and culture or whatever. He told her his birthday was January 18th, and that he had a brother back in Germany. He told her that his favorite season was fall and he loved cornflowers. Girls loved to hear that kind of crap, whether it was true or not. It was, by the way, because he was too awesome to lie to such an innocent girl. And he just felt comfortable talking to her. And she seemed to actually be interested, so that definitely made the conversation more awesome. But that was it.

Gil only noticed what time it was when the sunlight ceased to glint into his awesome eyes. The ball of feathery warmth on his shoulder shifted slightly and let out a sleepy peep when he stood. He'd returned to Berlin for his feathery friend once he'd scoped out the situation in Toris' house, but he'd been careful to keep him inside the house. After all, this was a city Gilbird didn't know; it would be beyond unawesome if he got lost.

He made sure the bird was awake enough to sit securely on his shoulder before climbing the ancient stairs up to the absent Lithuanian's room. So he'd been staying up there. Big deal. It was the most habited of all the rooms and felt the most comfortable. And being the awesome guest he was, as long as he didn't leave a mess (which he never did), he deserved the most comfortable room. It just made sense. On the bedside table was a plain leather-bound notebook entitled simply "Prussia's Diary of Awesomeness: Volume 1714".

He picked up the pencil lying next to it and sat cross-legged on the perfectly-made bed; Gilbird shifted uneasily before taking off and fluttering over towards the fluffier of the pillows. His human (nation?) companion stared silently out the window, with the book open to a clean page. After a few long minutes, he began to write.

_I was so awesome today! I was doing my awesome duty and wandering around looking for Toris today, but I got really hungry so I walked into this mall and saw that cute girl who picked me up a couple weeks ago! Being my usual awesome and charming self, I managed to strike up a conversation and get her email address. I sent her a message once I got home and she of course answered promptly, as mein awesomeness would dictate. We talked for a few hours and I sort of unawesomely lost track of time. Now mein stomach is trying to digest itself once again, but I'm too awesome to cook so I guess I'll eat out somewhere. That's all for now, I'm too hungry to go on._

He paused here and stared out the window again. To the west, towards his home. The sun had set, leaving only bright lines of orange and pink in the sky; it had to be at least 8:00. He didn't feel like he'd written all he needed to; there was still something that needed to be said. Put into words. And if anyone was capable of that it was the awesome Prussia. He turned his gaze to the light blue ruling of the journal page, and his oddly orderly German scrawl above. Just get it out.

_There's something about that Vilt__ė__ girl. _

There. He'd said it. That was it, now time to get some food. But he still didn't feel…empty. Metaphorically of course; physically he was starving. Not awesome at all. He pressed his pencil against the paper again.

_She reminds me of someone. _

Nope, it still wasn't enough. He scratched through the words angrily. Dammit, he really was going to have to be more specific.

_She reminds me of __Toris._

Alright, so now it was _really_ out. But he still felt like he needed to specify…because that still wasn't quite it.

_And by Toris, I mean the Toris I grew up with. Before Russia and Poland._

Yeah, that was it. He sighed quietly. The feeling in his chest still wasn't very clear, but it was enough for now. He closed the small book and set it back on the table, then placed the pencil next to it. He stretched out on his back on the bed that wasn't his, in a room that wasn't his, in a country that used to be his, and to which he had once belonged, and watched the late evening light slowly dissipate.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

The laptop I had been emailing from pinged quietly. I looked up from my daily pile of paperwork and glanced at the screen; something had popped up. The warm scents of Rasa's cooking were wafting in from the kitchen and crickets sang outside in the late summer evening. I had felt oddly…giddy after my conversation with Prussia. Like I was meeting him for the first time, even though we'd known each other for centuries. It was different talking to him as a different person.

But this wasn't an email box. I clicked it and it expanded to fill the right corner of the screen. It read simply "Baltic Conference: Saturday, 7/19/XX".

Baltic Conference. 7/19. That was in a little more than a week, and my term as the opposite gender showed no signs of ending anytime soon. So what would we do? Was my government sending a representative? How would Raivis and Eduard react? I had said I'd be there. Surely my absence would be suspicious after that-

"Viltė, dinner!"

I stood and stretched before heading into the kitchen. I responded naturally to the female name now, and proceeded with my life as if I were a normal human with a normal job. If I forgot about the small yellow reminder box on my computer screen, I could be anyone. I was enjoying this life; it was comfortable, domestic, easy. I almost felt like I was closer to myself, who I really was.

I abandoned the cold electronic light attempting to drag me back into my other life, and joined Rasa at our small coffee table.

* * *

><p><strong>And there we have it. Plot. It's almost there.<br>Yet again, there are no real notes. I hesitate to dip my toes back into more languages.  
>All of you readers are wonderful people for sticking with me so far. I know I procrastinate and update slowly and write short chapters, and yet you all keep reading. It makes me happy to know so many people are enjoying this story. :)<br>That said, since school's started back, you'll have to bear with me a little more. ^^"  
>Of course when you review it really lets me know that you're enjoying it! Reviews of every color are appreciated, as usual.<br>That's all for now!  
>~Erisu Koumei<br>**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm back! One application down, 4 more to go, and 3 more quarters of school in store. Hooray...  
>Anyways, big hugs for everyone who reviewed: Sunny-Blue-Sky, What The Crapola Is This, Singing Sea, and KoreaFanGirlMan.<br>Also hugs for those who favorited/followed. All of you are awesome.  
>Here's the chapter. Enjoy~<strong>

**Chapter 7**

If Rasa had noticed a slight change in her charge, it hadn't worried her much. In fact, if anything it made her happier, seeing Viltė gain confidence and become comfortable in her everyday life. Not that Rasa had really known the nation before, only heard a mention here and there. Still, she had seen a change from the subdued, somewhat timid girl Viltė had been at first. Traits that had been packed away quietly before came out more fully as the days passed: a sharp sense of humor, an ingrained stubbornness, a liveliness in her step, a bit of subtle pride in the way she carried herself. Traits that Rasa would expect from, well, a nation. Particularly her own. Some things hadn't changed, of course, including the lilt of her speech (she was probably a good singer; another thing Rasa would expect from the embodiment of Lithuania), and her selflessness and infuriating knack for empathy where it wasn't needed. But overall the young woman (nation?) seemed to just _be _different. As if somewhere along the way she'd shed the weight of the world and now found she could breathe again.

None of this changed the fact that Viltė was definitely hiding something. Something to do with Prussia. Gilbert? Gil? Whatever. It was easier to objectify him if he was just a line on a map. Put him in perspective. What threat did he pose? Too much of one obviously. And why was Viltė so…for lack of a better word, partial to him? There seemed to be something deeper between two nations, but they should harbor centuries of hostility and bad feeling against each other. It didn't make sense and it stressed her out. Not knowing made her feel as if the missing piece was especially essential, that not putting it together would mean death by surprise attack, by something she should have seen coming. Or worse, the loss of her charge. Failure.

A cigarette dangled between her fingers, flakes of ash drifting down to the warm, dew-damp earth. The air was hot and oppressive and smelled like July, even though the sun had set hours ago. Inside, Viltė was washing the dishes, as she had insisted on doing every other night. It was a pity really, that the nation was hiding this. More than the physical distance from the front yard to the kitchen, Rasa could feel the distance, slight as it was, that the events of the day had driven between herself and her charge. Like a finger scalded in hot water, she had pulled away her tentatively offered and notoriously hard-to-earn trust. She was on her toes again, watching every move, analyzing every word, searching for the shreds of dishonesty and trying to weave them, against their will, into a patchwork understanding. Maybe she was being a little paranoid. But Viltė was often led by her emotions. If it turned out that she couldn't make decisions regarding her own protection with a clear head…

Rasa took a drag off the cigarette, flicked off the excess ash, breathed out a cloud of thin smoke. She didn't want to lose this just yet. She was undeniably fond of her charge and quietly relished the feeling of mutual trust that had grown up between them, something that was rare in her life. It made her happy to see Viltė happy. Even if it was only for a short while, and even though they were in a constant state of low alert, waiting for whatever would come.

Whatever would be, would be.

She knew she would miss these days.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

"You got yourself kicked out again, didn't you."

"It's only because West is so unawesome and stupid! Only someone so massively unawesome would be able to bear kicking out my awesome self!" From his perch on the albino's shoulder, Gilbird peeped shrilly in agreement (at least the albino nation interpreted it that way).

Gil had to admit, it was somewhat comforting to hear Elizaveta's sarcastic tone again. It had been a while. Not that he was actually visiting her; just a social call. It was boring as shit in Vilnius, there was nothing to _do. _So he'd decided to call up his childhood friend and pester her for a bit, and she'd immediately gone on the offensive.

"Whatever you say. I find it interesting that you decided to stay with Toris." He could hear her smirk clearly over the phone.

"Well, I couldn't very well stay with you, Roderich would throw a shit fit!"

"I never would've suggested that you stay with me, dumbass," she shot back. "But if you're as awesome as you say, surely there are others in the world who would let you spend some time with them."

He frowned slightly, and wished that his expression could transfer over the phone so she'd know how much he wasn't in the mood for this argument. "Of course there are! But I wanted to stay close to home."

"So that limits us to Europe, huh. Why didn't you stay with Spain or France? You guys are pretty close." 'Pretty close' meaning Elizaveta had captured several nosebleed-worthy pictures that would make any self-respecting yaoi fan go crazy.

"Yeah, well...it's not the best time for me to be visiting France." He reflected briefly on the "accidental" destruction/draining of some of the Frenchman's finest casks of wine. "And Spain's at some conference. Besides, the guys are fun to hang with, but to live with? Hell no. You know what they say about rooming with your friends."

"What about Italy? Feliciano's a sweetie, plus the food's great."

"Yeah but his unawesome brother has it out for me! And there's too much sun, the awesome me would burn to a crisp!"

"Fine, that limits it to north Europe. What about Vash? I mean I know you're not best buddies but I doubt he'd kill you if you just hung around a while and didn't mess with Liechtenstein."

"I'm not so sure of that. I'd like for my awesome body to be intact at the end of this."

"…Alright, I see your point. That was a stupid suggestion." She thought for a moment or two. Sweden was out of the question; in their last political dealings the two hadn't exactly been on good terms. And Prussia was generally creeped out by the larger, silent man. Finland was off limits by extension. Belarus was nuts, Ukraine was clingy, Britain's food was inedible, and most normal people preferred nails on a chalkboard to listening to Poland…really that just left the other Baltics. That was a stretch. "What about Estonia? Or Latvia?"

"Both way too close to Russia." On his end of the line, Gilbert shuddered slightly. "Plus Raivis never stops shaking and crying. He just drains my awesomeness."

"Eh…" Elizaveta moved the receiver away from her ear, prepared for the outburst. "You know, Lithuania technically shares a border with Russia-"

"KALININGRAD IS NOT RUSSIA."

On the other end of the line, Hungary winced. The sound had carried at full volume over the cautionary foot or two she had put between herself and the receiver. "Alright, alright, calm down..." She gave him a moment or two to do exactly that. Only once the sound of a beer bottle being opened had reached her ears did she continue speaking. "If that really is where you want to stay, it's fine…I just thought your history with Toris was…"

Gilbert's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Well…a little rocky."

Static filled the silence between them.

Realizing she'd broached exactly the wrong topic, Elizaveta cleared her throat. "So you're staying in his house…not trashing the place I hope. Have you heard anything about where he's gone?"

Gil gave a frustrated huff and drummed his fingers against his beer bottle. "Nothing. The government's being evasive and I haven't seen him around."

"If you've only been checking out the bars, that's not too surprising."

"Hey, I've looked other places too!"

"I know, I know, I'm just ribbing you." She laughed, and he smiled slightly. It was good to hear her laugh, she didn't do it as much as she used to. It immediately lightened his mood a little. "I assume you've been having some fun too, despite how much of a workaholic you are."

He grinned as sarcasm flooded her tone. "Of course. Bars, malls, girls. You name it, the awesome me has checked it out."

"Girls, huh? That was quick."

"Well, I haven't actually slept with any," he admitted grudgingly. "But I know they all wanted the awesome me! I was just forced to turn them down. This is serious business, after all!"

"Of course it is."

"There is this one girl though…"

Something in Gil's tone made Elizaveta sit up and listen. She did her best not to sound interested. Otherwise the stubborn nation on the other side of the line would withhold the information just to make her squirm. "And who would that be?"

"Her name's Viltė. We've been emailing some, and…" Gil trailed off, staring out the kitchen window.

Finally Elizaveta got fed up with his silence. "And?"

"Nothing. It's stupid and unawesome."

She hated it when he did that. Just dangled things in front of her face and then snatched them away in some kind of vain effort to preserve his image even though she'd seen him at his worst countless times. He'd cave eventually. He always did.

Static filtered through the receiver yet again.

After about a minute of white noise (it feels a lot longer when both parties are waiting for the other to speak), the albino nation shattered the tension. "And she reminds me of…Toris. The old Toris."

Elizaveta's silence dragged on a bit longer. _This is an interesting development. _She understood what Prussia meant – Toris pre-occupation. She'd known him too, back when he was fiercer, at the top of his game. He'd changed over the centuries. They all had.

Gil had shifted his gaze to the blank door of the refrigerator. After a moment his voice broke softly through the silence. "I…don't know what I feel. This is way unawesome."

Hungary's voice drifted gently to him from hundreds of miles away. "You're concerned for your friend. It's natural."

"It sucks!"

"If you're interested in this girl, go ahead and talk to her. See where it goes. But don't forget why you're interested in her. Don't forget who you're looking for." _Click._

"Liz, wait! Elizaveta!" He glared unseeingly at the receiver for a few seconds. _That bitch hung up on the awesome me! And her advice wasn't even worth the call! _He angrily chugged the rest of the beer and tossed the bottle unceremoniously in the trash.

'Friends', she'd called them. That wasn't it. It ran deeper than that, and in a different direction entirely. It was a residual rivalry, tempered by decades spent together under occupation and repression and abuse. They weren't close, and yet they trusted each other; they'd stitched each other up but they barely knew what they had in common. They avoided each other but carried vivid memories of their teenage years as aspiring empires, grabbing for power, fighting for dominance. In some ways they were closer than many lovers; in others they were complete strangers. A simple, blocky word like "friend" could never hope to contain nearly a millennium of history.

And she'd seemed to think he was "interested" in Viltė. That, at least, was somewhat closer to the truth. He was "interested". He wanted to test her similarity to the Grand Duchy, and see if he had really fallen to projecting his memories on others, or if it really was just a coincidence. Maybe he'd even end up becoming fond of the girl. He recalled how he'd been unable to tear himself away from her messages, how despite her _normalcy_ he had found her interesting enough to keep replying. She had pulled him in somehow, and he wanted to understand.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

The change in Rasa was slight, but it was there.

It took a few days to really notice. Our mealtime conversations were truncated to a few words here and there. Although I knew she was, she no longer gave any indication that she was interested in my history or experiences. She watched me like a hawk, and a small firearm I hadn't even known she had appeared on various surfaces in the house, changing rooms as she did. When I worked in the garden in the front yard, she stood and smoked and watched me silently. She handed me my morning coffee in silence, and sat in the room while I worked but usually read, speaking only when spoken to, occasionally asking a few polite, unobtrusive questions. Was I hungry, was I sleeping well, how were my new clothes fitting. It was like she barely knew me and didn't really want to. She still showed interest, but it was distant, cold.

I recalled her words from so long ago, that I needed to relax and accept being spoiled for the time being. She really had no idea how right she'd been. This was what a bodyguard should be: efficient, alert, caring for all the physical needs of their charge and most importantly, protecting them from harm. There was nothing in the contract that said she had to be sociable or even interested in me as a person.

My mind trailed back over everything we'd done in the past two weeks and marveled at the progress as my pen flew absentmindedly across paperwork. She had come into it interested but efficient, and once my transformation was complete, the efficiency had waned while her interest grew. We had planted a garden, gone shopping several times, dressed up for dinner, shared stories of our childhoods (as different as they were), discussed the merits of musical theater, argued about the best way to drink coffee or prepare pierogi or whether the feng shui really _mattered _when decorating a room. Small things. But when you're starting from scratch, they add up quickly.

And they can be destroyed quickly as well. As I felt myself flourishing both in my new life and in my new and tenuous connection with Gil, I saw how Rasa had slightly turned back in upon herself. This was the face she showed to everyone else; from the start I had been given a special place, not just as a higher up, but as someone she had found interesting even before she knew any details of my nationhood. She had opened herself up to me – her dry humor, odd hobbies, plain fashion sense, lack of social grace, flat gray eyes that showed everything and nothing – on just the smallest, most obvious condition. And it hadn't been enough for me. So, very practically, showing her good common sense, she had changed tactics.

The betrayal that she could only just sense continued, hidden behind some rather boring-looking official documents on the laptop screen that I actually did edit every time I answered one of Gil's emails. Those messages lay between us, an elephant in the room that only I could see. Rasa, her gray eyes turned towards the pages of a new book every few hours, was blindfolded, and could only hear the elephant shifting, sense its presence from the stirring of the air. Any time I wanted, I was free to take off her blindfold, receive her verbal beating, and settle the atmosphere between us. Take back the closest thing to friendship I'd had in a long while before it was too late.

On the other hand, through casual and relaxed conversation, I was learning more about Gil than I had in my 900 plus years of knowing him combined. Things he never would've told the nation of Lithuania because they were weaknesses, or politically exploitable, or just not relevant. And in return, under a new name, I shared what I couldn't before.

I was Viltė Stankevičiūtė, 22 years old, fresh out of college and looking for a job. My sister Rasa wasn't biologically related but had taken it upon herself to watch over me obsessively after our parents split. I liked gardening and singing, martial arts and summertime, wildflowers and the forest. I was a bit taller than average and stronger than I looked. My humor was witty and self-deprecating, and I clung tightly to my opinions.

He was Gilbert Beilschmidt, albino, 23 years old, staying in the country with his friend Lukas to escape his controlling family. He liked motorcycles and military strategy, autumn and good beer, cornflowers and developed cities. He was small but tough, and often more intimidating than necessary due to his blood-red eyes. He was a crack shot with just about anything despite somewhat diminished eyesight, and a little bit OCD about certain things. His humor tended to be stupid and crude but everyone needs a little of that from time to time.

Both of us were just humans, going about our limited human lives, drinking as deeply as we could from life before it ended. Just specks in a world crawling with 7 billion beings just like us. In the long run, we wouldn't matter. We were free to do whatever we wanted with our time. And so we kept talking.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

Gil took a deep breath. He could do this. He wasn't some pathetic 7th grade boy on his first date. He'd done this hundreds of times. Sure he could've invited her out over email, but like a truly awesome gentleman he still believed in doing these things face to face. He hadn't told Viltė he was coming; that would ruin the surprise. And might tip off her overprotective sister.

He really really hoped it was Viltė who answered the door. The other one looked tough.

He eyed the peephole warily before knocking twice, sharply.

Silence.

Just as he was about to knock again, the door creaked open slightly, revealing a sliver of slate gray iris and dark pupil. "What do you want?"

Be confident. Women can smell fear. Especially the paranoid ones. "I'd like to talk to Viltė."

"She's not in." _Slam._

Well, that was a hell of a note. He'd gotten an email from her less than five minutes ago. He knocked again. This time she didn't even bother opening the door; her voice emanated through the wood. "I said she's not in!"

"Well, when will she get back?"

"None of your business. Go away."

"I just want to talk to her!" He banged on the door again and this time the only sound that met his ears was that of the deadbolt sliding into place. He shot the door a frustrated ruby glare as if that would make it magically open. If only it were that easy.

Fine. He'd do this cliché teenager-style then. He stepped out of the range of the peephole and slipped his fancy smartphone out of his pocket.

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

The knocking from what Rasa continued to claim was an overly assertive door-to-door salesman, despite the skeptical look I shot her, had ceased when my inbox displayed yet another new message from Gil. It read simply:

_Look out the side window._

There was only one side window, the one in Rasa's room. I glanced out into the den; the owner of said window-room was still there, fixing herself more coffee and glancing out of the peephole occasionally to make sure that obnoxious "salesman" had left. Anxiety began to curl coldly around my stomach. _What was he planning? _

I stood and walked quietly to the back of my own room, trying not to be noticed while I got a better view into her room through the bathroom hallway that connected them. As far as I could see, her door was mostly closed. She usually kept it that way.

I slipped nonchalantly through the hallway and into Rasa's bedroom, moving as quickly as I could to the side window. The blinds were mostly closed, unsurprisingly. I tugged on the cord and they slowly turned horizontally, a little more…and there he was, red eyes peering mischievously into mine, a slip of paper pressed up against the glass.

_You, me, tonight at 7_

Oh.

_Dieve._

This was quite a mess I'd gotten myself into.

I closed the blinds as quickly as I could without making noise and slipped back into my own room, adrenaline coursing, just as Rasa's paranoia was settling down. She took her seat in the corner just as I was resuming my work, and cracked open her book yet again. I waited tensely, my stomach churning and my hand almost cramping as I signed document after document in a blur of pen and paper. When I thought she'd gotten enough into the story, I pulled my inbox back up. The first message read simply _"So is that a no?"_

Oh, how to explain that I was basically housebound without giving anything away…Worryingly enough, part of me was seriously considering accepting his invitation, ditching Rasa and dashing out for a night on the town, regardless of the consequences. The more practical part of me, however, was telling me that I was officially in over my head. This was too far, and to even be considering this was nothing short of the lowest, basest level of stupidity.

My fingers seemed to move on their own, briefly summarizing the conflict raging within me. _"Not tonight. Maybe another time. Give me some time to think about it." _

I sent the message and closed out of the internet window, determined not to be distracted any further. Unfortunately, a small yellow reminder box in the corner of the screen had other plans for me. I stared at it blankly for a moment or two before realizing what it was. It took another few seconds for the information to process. Then I was left with a single question. Or rather, several chaotic strands of anxiety bundled into something that resembled a question.

"…Hey, Rasa."

She was silent, but it was a listening sort of silence; her eyes were fixed on me.

"You know I have this Baltic conference in a little less than a week."

She was still silent but I saw her head tilt slightly in recognition.

"What are we going to do about that?"

"It'll be taken care of."

Well, yes, I'd figured that much. I couldn't just not show up for a meeting like that. There would have to be some sort of delegation from Lithuania. But who would they send? Hopefully diplomats of some sort. But generally though the things discussed at the nations' meetings pertained to, well, the nations themselves. Even if I didn't go, I'd need transcripts, a video, something, because as low-profile as the meeting was, there was bound to be important information discussed. And of course there was a World Conference scheduled for a little over a month from now. I had thought that all this would surely blow over by then, but it was beginning to seem like it would be a rather drawn-out affair. If I wasn't at the World Conference it would cause a stir; even the sick and weakened nations managed to attend. "Personal health leave" wasn't even close to an acceptable excuse.

My life was pulling me in three different directions, and going in any one of them endangered the other two. While I might be able to be three people at once, I couldn't be in three places.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just what I said. You don't need to worry about it."

Her tone hurt me even though I knew I'd brought it on myself. For the fourth or fifth time since that day at the mall, I asked her "Why are you upset with me?"

I knew why. But I thought for some reason if she could qualify it, if she would just own up to it, and tell me, I could bring myself to make it alright. Behave, like a good charge. Stop endangering my life and the lives of my people. Something about her voice, my consideration for her feelings maybe, if she would just _express them_, tended to make me fall in line.

But, as before, her answer was flat, simple.

"_A__š__ nesu."_

**0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0**

"How is she doing?"

"Just fine. She was worried about the delegation we'd be sending."

"And you told her it was taken care of?"

"Of course, Madame President."

"Good. Anything else to report?"

"She saw another nation not too long ago. Prussia; you remember I told you he was in the country in my earlier report. I think she talked to him a few days ago and just today he came by the house. I don't consider him a threat, but I worry that she may accidently slip up and he'll see through her cover. Hopefully I've discouraged him from coming back."

"I trust your judgment, Miss Stankevičiūtė. I give you full authority to do whatever you think is best in this situation. You've done very well so far watching out for her."

"Thank you, Madame President. Has there been any new intelligence?"

"None so far, I'm afraid. But we'll tell you as soon as we know anything."

"Of course."

"Keep up the good work."

A click sounded over the line, and then silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>

**_A__š__ nesu - _I'm not. **

**No promises on when the next chapter's coming out, but allow me to put to rest all fears that I will finish this. I will. I'm just taking my sweet time. ^^" Hopefully things are picking up a bit, and soon the crap will hit the fan and everything will start moving so quick that you'll look back and say "...Whoa, what just happened?"**

**At any rate, I hope you enjoyed it. Criticism in all (most) forms always welcome. Until next time,**

**~Erisu Koumei**


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